Through another's eyes part 1: The new Rider
by RiderArya103
Summary: The Inheritance Cycle told from Arya's point of view. Begins in Farthen Dûr, after Eragon rescued her from Gil'ead.
1. Awakening

OK, so this is my first really long story. I'm new to this site too so I don't know if I'm doing this right. Please review and tell me if it was good or bad ...

Note: This is how I'm writing:

- = when someone speaks with thoughts.

" " = when someone speaks aloud.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Inheritance Cycle characters, even though I sometimes wish I did.

Chapter 1: Awakening

Arya lay in her bed, staring miserably up at the stone ceiling overhead. Her eyes followed one of the lines that was created where two stone blocks met, searching in vain to find the end. By doing so, by searching for something she knew she would not find, she managed to calm her racing mind a little. But it was definitely not enough.

It had gone a day and a half now since she'd been rescued by Eragon, Saphira and Murtagh. A day and a half during which time she had existed in a kind of mist, drifting just between wakefulness and unconsciousness. It was only now, about twenty minutes ago, that her whole being had come up and broken the surface of the waking world. The healers had, after examining Arya and assuring her that she would be all right, left her alone for some time, to let her rest.

But Arya was restless, wanting nothing more than to get up and do something, no matter what. But she knew that this was still beyond her ability. She was still feeling weak and powerless, and every time she moved a little too quickly, she got dizzy and faint. So she stayed where she was, letting the questions float up and around in her mind and making no effort to stop them. Because she knew she would not be capable of ever managing that.

Of course, Arya knew she should be glad, happy, grateful beyond measure for an escape that, until a week ago, had seemed so impossible. And of course, she _was_ feeling grateful, and she longed to talk to Eragon and Saphira, to thank them and tell them how much it meant to her that they'd taken her away from that horrible place. But all the memories of what she'd been forced to go through, all the mourning for Fäolin and Glenwing, were overriding the happiness and thankfulness at the moment. There was just so much to think about, and she also had a feeling that there was far too little time.

The sound of voices drifting closer from outside interrupted Arya's thoughts. Feeling very relieved indeed, she pulled herself up more straight. Just in case they were coming to meet her. But the voices had stopped, maybe just outside her door, and now she was also able to make out the words.

"She needs resting, I tell you", one of the voices, which Arya knew belonged to a healer, was saying. "I would suggest that you returned tomorrow. Or this evening, if it's urgent."

"It is more than urgent, Ildera", replied a man's voice. "I've got to see her now. As far as I am aware, tomorrow might be too late. The Urgals and the Kulls might be standing on our threshold earlier than any of us expected."

Arya froze where she sat, partly because she knew the person speaking, and partly because of his words. Ajihad was telling the healer that Urgals, and even Kulls, were coming? Coming to Farthen Dûr? But why? Was all this due to her? She did not want to admit it, but supposed that this was probably correct.

The discussion outside her door had come to an end by this time, although Arya hadn't heard a word of it. But she understood that Ajihad had won when there was a soft knock on her door, after which it swung open and he appeared. His eyes fell upon her immediately, filled with an expression she hadn't seen in them before. It wasn't altogether anxious, but much softer than he usually looked. Almost as if ... as if he felt sorry for her. Almost as if he regretted what she'd been forced to go through.

When he spoke, Ajihad's voice was also different.

"Arya", he said, coming to sit on a chair beside her bed. "How are you feeling?"

While trying hard not to show that she'd noticed any change in his behaviour, Arya said indifferently:

"Not as well as I would wish to be, but better than I had hoped."

"I see."

Ajihad was silent for a while, before saying:

"The healers have told me not to speak with you about anything of great urgency until you are stronger. But I do not agree, since the situation among the Varden is quite urgent for the moment. How much do you know about your journey from Gil'ead?"

Arya took a deep breath, hardening herself against what she knew would come. Even though this was far better than just doing nothing, she knew it would not be easy to talk about it. All those memories which she was fighting so hard to keep away would surely turn up again, sharper and clearer and more painful than ever, and she would have to suppress them yet again. She was quite good at it, because her 50 years with the Varden had given her much practice. But this was probably going to be harder than ever.

"Not much", Arya said, as an answer to Ajihad's question. "I do know about the escape, though, because Eragon told me about it. But I do not know anything after that."

Ajihad nodded, seeming to consider for a while before he replied.

"Well, I will not give you any details now. But I can tell you that you travelled faster than I thought would be possible through the valley, and it took you eight days to get here from Gil'ead altogether. But when you arrived at Kósta-Mérna, you were attacked by an army of both Urgals and Kulls. I must say that I do not know if you would have made it if we had not found you there. But we did, and we fought the Urgals, and none of you came to any harm. Eragon and Saphira are well now, and they've asked quite a lot about you."

"Oh!" said Arya, trying in vain to understand all this. "But ... Eragon and Saphira ..."

Her voice faltered, then died away, as she realized that she had no idea what to say. What Ajihad had told her just caused even more question to rise inside her, and the desire to get up and do something increased. She would have to talk to Eragon and Saphira, very soon. And where was Murtagh? Not until now did she realize that Ajihad had not mentioned him at all, which was a little odd. Oh, there were so many things going on at once, so many things that she was vainly struggling to put together! So much that needed to be done in such short time.

"Arya?" Ajihad said, putting a hand on her shoulder and meeting her eyes, still with that worried expression filling his eyes. "What are you thinking about?"

"Well, I was just ... wondering about Eragon and Saphira. I mean ... what made them do it? We do not even know each other! They had no reason to doi what they did, and it certainly cost them a lot as well!"

"Yes, but ..."

It was clear that Ajihad was looking for a good explanation, without finding any.

"Maybe Saphira recognized you", he said finally. "Dragons can touch the minds of other persons even when they are inside their eggs, can't they?"

"Yes, they can", Arya admitted. "And yes, I have talked to Saphira quite a lot, to be honest. But when Eragon contacted me, he did not seem aware of this at all. So at least Saphira cannot have mentioned it to him. Of course, she might have just forgotten, but I don't know ..."

"Well, you'd better ask them about it", Ajihad said. "I have not done it, because I think they want you to be the first to hear what they've got to say about this."

"Yes, maybe."

Silence fell between them yet again. Arya's head was swimming, and she closed her eyes for a while, taking deep breaths to calm herself. She'd have to stop thinking, she realized. This was not the first time she thought too much about something, and it certainly was not going to be the last either. It would be easy to say that she was just the kind of person who did, and that there was nothing wrong about it. But everything just seemed to get harder to understand the more she thought about it. Problems made up out of nothing was the least they needed now.

No, Arya thought, looking up at the ceiling once more. I'd better just follow the healers' advice: rest until I can do more. Not entirely satisfied with the idea, but knowing that there was no alternative, she sighed.

"We shall talk more tomorrow", said Ajihad, getting to his feet. "I will see you as soon as I can."

"Yes", said Arya, lying down again and letting her gaze follow him as he left the room.


	2. From dream to reality

OK, so this chapter is not maybe as good as the title, but ... here it is anyway. Hope you like it! Again, please read and review!

Something that I forgot to say before:

... (when it is on a separate line like in the beginning of this chapter) = the beginning and end of a dream

Chapter 2: From dream to reality

...

She was wandering along a meandering, foggy path, searching for something that was hidden at the far end. A laugh came floating back through the air towards her. It was a bright laughter, one that she'd known as far back as she could remember. Someone was waiting for her just over there in that sunny clearing, just out of reach. Arya was desperate, wanting nothing but to get to him. But she could not move. She stood frozen to the ground, held back by the mist that was now twining itself around her, like creepers from some plant growing in the depths of Du Weldenvarden. The strength was draining from her body, and the laugh had changed too. It grew darker and threatening, and a dark figure stood towering before her.

- No! No! Leave me alone, please! Just let me go!

Her voice could barely be heard at all over that wicked, cruel laughter that was now filling thee entire forest - her entire mind.

- Arya, come to me!

The mild voice, which was flowing into her mind from somewhere - she couldn't tell exactly - felt like sunlight striking through the clouds on a dark sky. It kept the mist and the darkness away, even though they did not vanish entirely.

- Arya, you must come to me! said the voice.

- But how? she asked, terror still filling her body and mind. I cannot come! Please, take me away from this!

- Do not be afraid, Arya.

As if her mind obeyed the command from this invisible person, all the mist, the darkness and the fear were suddenly swept away, leaving her floating in a space in which no feelings existed. Around her was neither darkness, nor light, but just a calm emptiness which at that moment was better than both. Oh, the relief of not having to deal with feelings that were beyond her ability to understand!

Then, all of a sudden, Arya had a name for the person saving her, and she turned to exclame:

- Oromis! But ... how did you find me? And where are you? Where am I?

Her questions were so many, that it was impossible for her to get the words into order. Falling silent, she waited instead for Oromis to speak. But it was a while before he did.

- I have been trying to keep an eye on you ever since you vanished on your way from Osilon, he said. But not until now have I managed to reach you. You have been so far away.

Arya understood that he did not mean physically, and merely said:

- Yes ... Eragon and Saphira ...

- I know about that, Oromis told her. Before I started speaking to you, I examined your memories of the happenings after Durza's ambush for you, Fäolin and Glenwing. It pains me to learn that they are dead. But I must say that you have done well, Arya. Few people would have been able to do what you did. You did not only save Saphira's egg, but also hid everything of value from Durza and Galbatorix. Thanks to you, the efforts they made were in vain.

His praise warmed her, almost as if she had been striving for it all the time, only she had not known. She could not fully understand it, but supposed it had something to do with the fact that Oromis was so much older than she, and that he knew so much more.

Before Arya had any more time to think about this, Oromis continued speaking.

- You have shown great determination and great curage lately, he said. I will now ask you to show the same again, even though I do not want to. Both Ajihad and Hrothgar, and a lot of other humans and dwarves as well, will want to know what happened to you. You will have to relive some of your worst memories ever. I can promise you that this will not be an easy experience, but you have to.

- Yes, Arya said, feeling her old determination build itself inside her as she spoke. I will do it. I will tell them what they need to know. And I won't make you disappointed.

- That is good, Oromis said, much more mildly. Now, I shall leave you, because you have answered most of my questions, and I know I should let you rest. We shall have a longer talk once you arrive to ellesméra, which I'm sure you will. Till then, may the stars watch over you. Now, sleep.

And with his words followed a calm peacefulness, which descended over Arya's mind and gently pushed all her questions and other thoughts aside. Her last thought before she drifted into the world of dreams was that perhaps things would not be as difficult as she had thought, after all.

...

The peace which oromis' mind had left remained inside Arya when she woke up the next morning. She also realized at once that something had changed. She was feeling different. Her strength seemed to have returned to her, and she was even eager to deal with all those things which had seemed so huge and frightening yesterday. The one thing she particularly wanted to was meet Eragon and Saphira.

Ildera the healer, who had been sitting by the side of Arya's bed when she woke up, told her that she'd recovered in a surprisingly short time.

"It usually takes people four or five days to recover after being poisoned with Skilna Bragh", she said. "Maybe three at best."

Arya laughed and then stood up, careful so as not to make the dizziness swim up within her again. But none came. Perhaps she felt a little weaker than usual, but that was all. Satisfied, she dressed and then put up her hear, before turning back to Ildera.

"I know ... that it cannot have been easy to ... to hela me", she said awkwardly, knowing even as she spoke that it was not the right thing to say to a healer who had just saved her life. "So I ... well, I just want to thank you for that."

Ildera looked at her, as if trying to work out where she wanted to get. Then, she went over and placed a hand on Arya's shoulder, saying:

"You do not need to thank me. Isn't it a healer's job to ... well, heal people?"

Smiling almost in spite of herself, Arya said:

"Be that as it may, but it can still not have been easy."

"Well, I must admit that what you say is true", Ildera said with a sad smile. "Anyway, the only thing I want you to do is be careful. Don't just throw yourself straight into something. I know there are a lot of things going on out there, but still ... I don't think you've fully recovered yet, even though you might think you have. So think of what I said, please, and come back here this evening. OK?"

"Yes", said Arya. "I see. Well, I will see you again this evening, at least."

"Yes. And ... good luck."

Just as Arya was about to leave the room, she noticed the expression etched upon the woman's face. It was sad, but it also contained something which was much harder for Arya to define. It was something warm and sorrowful at the same time. It was the way a mother might look at a child. The second Arya voiced this thought to herself, she felt her face turn hot and red, and it was as if the healer was holding her gaze. It was a long while before she managed to turn away from Ildera and leave the room.

The corridors of Farthen Dûr were not deserted, as Arya would have expected them to be at this time of the day. Instead, humans an dwarves alike were hurrying along, speaking urgently to each other and glancing over their shoulders as they went. Neither of them seemed to see Arya as more than yet another person, which she at that moment appreciated highly. Her determination was not shining as brightly as it had done when she awoke, and now she'd begun to feel nervous too. What would it feel like to recount all that, over and over again to different persons? How would she react? She had thought she knew herself, but felt that she was completely at a loss when it came to this. She'd never been the kind of person who easily spoke about personal things, which was just what she'd have to do now. On the other hand, she had done worse things than this, hadn't she? Wasn't it worse to take part in a battle than to tell a story, however terrible the story might be? She didn't feel that certain any more.

Arya was so deeply concentrated on her own thoughts, that she did not even see Ajihad coming until he stood right in front of her, holding out his arm to make her stop.

"Arya!" he said. "I am glad to see you. How are you?"

"I'm all right", Arya said, realizing that she for some reason did not want to discuss the matter further than that. "Do you know where Eragon and Saphira might be?"

The question came before she could hold it back, even before she knew what she was saying. What was the matter with her today? she suddenly wondered. How could she be so determinate and so sure what to do, and yet so confused?

"Eragon and Saphira have gone to the training field together with the twins", Ajihad was saying. "If I'm not mistaken, they're being tested right now. At least, that's what the twins told me they intended to do."

"Tested?" Arya repeated, suddenly feeling a cold sensation she couldn't really explain rise up inside her. "Well, then I think I'd better go and see them straight away."

Ajihad looked at her, then said:

"I know you have never liked the twins very much, Arya, but ..."

"No!" Arya said. "No, it ..."

She took a deep breath and then tried again:

"I only think I should go there to see what they are doing, because there is a lot that can go wrong when you use magic."

And she turned and ran before Ajihad had time to reply.

It was hard for Arya to explain her sudden feeling of hurry. However, it became clear as soon as she reached the training field that she had made the right choice. Everyone, both humans and dwarves, were standing perfectly still and silent, some with swords in their hands, others just watching. In the middle of the field stood a large, blue dragon, whom Arya recognized at once to be Saphira. She was watching something Arya was unable to see, with an expression of anger filling her blue eyes. Still unnoticed, Arya moved forwards until she too could see what was going on.

The twins were standing side by side, with barely concealed smugness all over their faces. In front of them stood a young man, almost a boy, who looked both tired and confused, but also ... relieved? So that is Eragon, Arya thought, before turning her attention back to the happenings in front of her. One of the twins was now handing Eragon a ring made of silver, and the words he spoke rang clearly over the field.

"Summon the essence of silver."

The words echoed in Arya's mind, waking a rage within her which she was not capable of holding back, a rage that had been building itself higher and higher ever since the twins first arrived to the Varden. Not able to stop herself, not even knowing what she was doing, Arya took a step forwards and called:

"Stop!"

At once, everyone's eyes fell upon her, but she took no notice, striding forwards towards the twins, who quailed before her fury. They knew the reason for her strong emotions, they knew what they'd told Eragon to do. They knew, they knew ...

"Shame!" Arya said, fixing her eyes upon the twins. "Shame to ask of him what only a master can do! Shame that you should use such methods! Shame that you told Ajihad you didn't know Eragon's abilities! He is competent. Now leave!"

And, just to make sure that they really understood, she gathered her newly recovered strength and exclaimed:

"Arget!"

A ghostlike copy of the ring appeared at once next to it, floating freely in mid-air. Arya felt a cold sensation run down her spine as she clung to the magic inside her for dear life. This was not anything she had done very often, and she was not practised at it.

After having looked once at the two rings, the twins turned and rushed from the field, leaving nothing but silence behind.


	3. Dragon, Rider and prophecy

OK, so here's the next chapter. I must say I had problems writing this, so I hope you like it!

Also, thanks for the reviews! I know it hasn't even gone a day since I published my last chapter, but I'm really writing a lot.

I'm trying to follow the Inheritance Cycle as much as I can, but there might be some mistakes later on, when I've got tired of reading the same chapter over and over again ... And yes, there will be some romance too. At least when they get to Ellesméra ...

But now, here comes:

Chapter 3: Dragon, Rider and prophecy

An ominous silence continued to hang over the training field while Arya's anger slowly faded away, and instead was replaced by a tiredness which alarmed her more than she would have wanted. What she had just done was, she knew, much harder than it looked, but was it too hard? Had she been too fast, and acted without thinking yet again? Well, brooding on that now would lead her no where.

So, careful not to let her face show any of the anxiety or the weakness she felt, Arya raised her eyes and gave the entire field a long, sweeping look. The other men shifted uncomfortably, and then moved aside to make room as she walked to the very centre of the field. She had no idea what to do, but once again the words seemed to come on their own initiative.

"I claim the right of trial by arms!" she called so that everyone could hear her, but looking only at Eragon. "Draw your sword!"

It was a short while before Eragon came forwards, and during that time Arya could see the unwillingness in etched upon his face. He did not want to do this, and she could see one clear reason: the exhaustion because of what the twins had forced him to go through. But what if there was something else as well? Maybe she was imagining things, but he appeared more anxious than tired, as if he thought she was incapable of doing this. As if he wanted to protect her after he had just saved her life. It made her feel strangely uncertain.

Meanwhile, the other men had formed a circle around the two of them, and the atmosphere had changed from ominous to expectant. Arya drew her sword and held it with the point down, watching as Eragon raised a gleaming, red sword she had never seen before, but recognized only too well. This was Zar'roc, the sword which had once belonged to Morzan, and which finally had killed his old owner and fallen into the hands of Brom. So now, it was Eragon's.

They stood still, motionless, watching each other. Then, Eragon moved forwards, and Arya had no difficulties to parry his attack. She turned, surprising him, and he barely had time to block her. Now, both of them were oblivious to all the people watching, concentrated only on the fight, the swinging of their arms, the clang as their swords met. And all the time, Arya was aware of Eragon's knowledge, of his moves and of what he intended to do next, and of what he was not capable of doing yet. He was good, she realized. Brom had taught him well. But there was still so much for him to learn.

They kept on sparring for what seemed like a long time, though Arya could not be sure of this. When she finally ended their fight by letting her sword hit Eragon's jaw, the other men watching began to cheer loudly. Saphira roared, and for a short moment, those bright, blue eyes met Arya's with an unexpected intensity. Then the moment had passed. Turning to Eragon, Arya mumbled so that the others would not hear:

"You have passed."

People were gathering around them now, praising them and talking loudly, but Arya ignored them. She walked away until she stood alone at the edge of the field. Then, once she saw Eragon looking at her, she motioned towards a nearby hill, meaning that he should meet her there. Without giving him time to show that he'd understood, she turned and set off towards the hill at a run.

It was not long before Saphira rose into the air and came flying, just above Arya's head, shimmering in the morning sun. At the sight of them, dragon and Rider soaring through the air, Arya felt a wild joy blazing up inside her, even pushing her problems aside for a while. So the egg had finally hatched, after all those years she had been trying to make it do so, after all that time the Varden had been waiting, and hoping. But why? The question hadn't occurred to Arya before, but now it did. Why had the egg landed in the Spine, right in front of the person who was going to be the Rider? How had she known where to send it? Or had she even done that? She did not know. When she tried to relive that moment when she'd pronounced the spell to send the egg away, all that came back to her was a feeling of despair.

Saphira had already landed on the hill when Arya reached it, and Eragon stood by her side. He looked at Arya's face, but seemed unable to think of anything to say. An awkward silence ruled between them for a while, before Arya turned to Saphira and said:

"Skulblaka, eka celöbra ono un molabra ono un onr Shur'tugal né haina. Atra nosu waíse fricai."

Saphira growled softly, her eyes full of a curious expression, then nodded. Eragon spoke.

"I'm glad that you've recovered", he said, speaking quickly. "We didn't know if you would live or not."

"That is why I came here today", Arya replied, trying to keep her face as calm and free of emotions as she could. "I owe you a debt that must be repaid. You saved my life. That can never be forgotten."

Eragon's expression changed and he stammered:

"It ... it was nothing. How did you come to be in Gil'ead?"

So now was the time, Arya thought, suddenly finding it much harder to keep the sorrow away from her face.

"Let us walk", she said.

It was better to be moving than just standing still.

During the time that followed, Arya recounted some of her story, and she saw that both Eragon and Saphira were listening closely to each word she spoke. She told them about the ambush laid for her, Fäolin and Glenwing by Durza and the Urgals, explained about her time in Gil'ead and the torture Durza had forced her to go through. And she told them about how she nearly had been brought to Urû'baen.

When she had finished, Eragon asked in a quiet voice:

"Why do you tell me all this?"

"So that you know what I was saved from'", Arya said, just as quietly.

"Oh! But ... what are you going to do now? Return to Ellesméra?"

"No, not yet. There is much to be done here. I cannot abandon the Varden. Ajihad needs my help. I've seen you tested in both arms and magic today. Brom taught you well. You are ready to proceed in your training."

"You mean that I should go to Ellesméra?"

To Arya's surprise, Eragon's expression had changed to something more like irritation than anything else. Not fully able to understand this, she said slowly:

"Yes."

"When?" he demanded.

"That is yet to be decided", Arya said. "But not for some weeks."

They walked in silence for a while, and then Eragon asked the question she knew would come.

"What did the twins want me to do?"

Anger flashed through Arya yet again, but this time she was able to control it.

"Something not even they can accomplish", she said, before explaining how you could speak the True Name of an object and summon its essence.

"Well ...", Eragon said, then changed subject once more. "It's strange, but before I was captured at Gil'ead, I had visions of you in my sleep. It was like scrying, and I was able to scry you later. But it was always during my sleep."

Eragon's words made a memory come drifting up to the surface of Arya's mind, one that was full of confusion and pain. She had been alone in her cell, and it had felt as though someone was watching her. She'd tried to turn towards this other person, but before she even had time to decide whether there really was someone in her cell, the feeling had gone.

Slowly, she told Eragon about it, and he frowned.

"I don't understand it myself", he said, looking down at a ring he wore on his right hand. "What does the tattoo on your shoulder mean? I didn't mean to see it, but when I was healing your wounds it couldn't be helped. It's the same symbol as on this ring."

The same symbol as on the ring, Arya thought, and she asked in a sharp voice:

"You have a ring with the Yawë on it?"

Eragon looked confused as he replied:

"Yes. It was Brom's. See?"

She looked at the symbol and then explained what it was worth, while her thoughts raced even faster than before.

So queen Islanzadí, her mother, had given this to Brom? But why hadn't she said? Well, there was a lot she had not confided to Arya, after all. So it should not surprise her like this. and still it did, and it was impossible for her to shake off that feeling of mingled confusion and anger with her mother. It made her want to get to Ellesméra faster, but she was still afraid of what might happen when she did.

Arya parted from Eragon and Saphira and wandered alone back to Farthen Dûr. However, she had not gone more than half of the way when she heard a voice behind her call:

"Arya! I was just wondering if you had perhaps fled from the Varden. But what are you doing out here on your own?"

Turning round, Arya saw Angela the herbalist, coming towards her with a basket swinging from one hand.

"I have been talking to Eragon and Saphira", Arya said. "Now, may I ask you what you are doing out here?"

"Yes, you may", said Angela with that mysterious expression on her face. "Unfortunately, however, I don't feel like answering that question."

She watched Arya more closely, and Arya thought for a moment that she was going to ask her something about how she felt. But as usual, Angela never did what Arya expected her to.

"So", the herbalist mumbled. "You are the one. I suppose I should have known. And that makes it even more interesting. Where will this lead?"

"Could you please tell me what you are talking about?" Arya suddenly exploded, tired of people who stared at her like that.

Angela looked at her glumly.

"Yes, I suppose I have to", she said. "Though I don't like the idea very much. A few weeks ago, in Teirm, I gave Eragon a prophecy which I must admit I did not fully understand. I've been brooding on it ever since, and now I think I understood a part of it. That's all I'm going to say."

And Arya knew there was no point in asking more.

"What did you do to the twins, anyway?" Angela went on after a while of silence. "I met them just now, and they looked terrified. They said something about you, but I couldn't understand more than that. They were stammering horribly. I think they were on their way to Ajihad, though."

"Oh!" said Arya, and her face turned red against her will. "Well, they were testing Eragon's ability with magic, and they ... they asked him to summon the essence of silver! They knew how far beyond his ability that was, and yet ..."

She broke off there, realizing that Angela was looking at her as if she had something to say.

"What?" Arya demanded.

"Oh, don't you understand why they did it?" Angela burst out. "Probably, they wanted it to look like Eragon is not as powerful as he really is. They could tell Ajihad that he failed to accomplish one of their tasks, and he wouldn't understand more than that, because he doesn't know magic. Anyway, this war between you and them is quite interesting, but don't you think it'll give you some difficulties to co-operate?"

Arya could not help a small smile, even though there was nothing funny about the situation. In fact, what Angela had said affected her more than she wanted the herbalist to know. If there really was going to be some kind of battle here very soon, she knew she would have to talk to Ajihad about this.

"I have never been able to co-operate with them", Arya said. "And I do know that it was not the wisest thing I could have done. Interrupting them like that, I mean. But the effort of trying to do it would have killed Eragon, whatever spell he was trying to use! Because he was going to say something before I interrupted him."

"Yes", said Angela quietly.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Arya asked in an attempt to calm herself a little. "I thought you lived in Teirm."

"I did", Angela confirmed. "But I closed my shop there as soon as I'd talked to Eragon. I knew then that everything was going on here, and not in Teirm. I've been here for a few weeks now, trying to avoid Du Vrangr Gata. They keep trying to make me join them, but I won't. Not as long as the twins are leaders, anyway. Do you know what? I think it was their idea to go through people's minds in the first place. They say it's for the Varden's best, but I doubt that."

Arya did not reply. Angela was saying exactly what she herself thought, but she knew that there was no point in discussing it. The twins were the most powerful magicians in the Varden, and so they had become leaders of Du Vrangr Gata. There was nothing anyone could do about it.

And besides, this morning had given Arya so much else to think about. It was hard to believe that it hadn't even gone an hour. Eragon, Saphira, Durza and the Urgals, all she needed to do ... It was so much, she did not even know where to begin. Well, she thought, taking a deep breath and glancing swiftly up at the sky. Since the twins must have spoken to Ajihad already, she must do the same. And then? She did not know.


	4. Return of the shadows

All right, here comes chapter 4. I don't think there's so much to say about it, really. So ... well, enjoy!

Chapter 4: Return of the shadows

Arya had a feeling it had not even become morning when a sound from outside woke her, although it was hard to tell when she couldn't see the sky. Muttering because she really had been longing for a good night's sleep, she got up, threw on her clothes and opened her door to see what was going on.

"Lady Arya!"

A young boy, pale and out of breath, stood outside her door.

"Ajihad wants you to come to his study", he panted.

"Now?" Arya said, unable to keep the tone of surprise out of her voice. "What for? Has anything happened?"

But, like she had expected, she got no reply.

A thousand possibilities rushed through Arya's mind as she made her way through the corridors, where everyone seemed to be awake. She had spent hours together with Ajihad and Hrothgar the previous day, recounting her story and listening as they told her what had happened while she was gone. So what did they want now, in the middle of the night? Of course, none of them had thought they would be left undisturbed. Not after that mighty attack of both Urgals and Kulls. But Arya hadn't expected anything to happen this soon. Unless Galbatorix had planned this attack already, and now thought that the right moment had come. But no, that couldn't be. How could he have gathered an entire army and begun to march towards the Beor Mountains without anyone from the Varden noticing?

No, Arya told herself as she stopped outside Ajihad's study, taking a deep breath and trying to calm her racing mind. Don't think too much about this as well! Wait until you hear what Ajihad's got to say. With that, she knocked on the door and was told to come in.

"Arya!" Ajihad burst out in relief as soon as she stepped into the room.

He was standing behind his desk together with Jörmundur, studying a map of Alagaësia. His troubled expression spoke more clearly than words, confirming Arya's misgivings.

For a long time, no one in the room spoke. It seemed as though they were waiting for something, though neither of them said what it was. Then, there was a knock on the door, and Eragon and Orik came in. Orik wore the same grim expression Arya had seen on the face of his king so many times when danger threatened. Eragon only looked confused and slightly troubled as he took his place next to her.

"Good, you're here, Eragon", said Ajiihad, before introducing Eragon and Jörmundur to each other. "I have summoned you all here because we are in great danger. About half an hour ago, a dwarf ran out of an abandoned tunnel under Tronjheim. He was bleeding and nearly incoherent, but he still managed to tell us what he fled from. There is an army of Urgals about a day's march from here."

Shocked silence followed his words, before there was a sudden explosion of voices as everyone seemed to be asking questions at the same time. Only Arya remained quiet, a storm of confusion and fear filling her mind as she understood the meaning of what Ajihad had just told them. Because she realized that the time when she was to face Durza again had come, much sooner than she had thought. It seemed so unlikely that Galbatorix himself would leave Urû'baen, and who else would he put in charge of this attack? But she was not prepared for a duel with the Shade yet! She had barely had any time to rest. She ...

There, a clear thought finally came up to the surface of Arya's mind. She suddenly realized how selfish she was being. Durza would not try and capture her again. Hadn't she shown by now that she was of no value to Galbatorix? No, the person they wanted was Eragon. He was the one who had fled from Gil'ead, he was the one who had taken her away from there, and he was the one who had brought Durza's plans to nothing. And he was a Dragon Rider. If he and Saphira were captured, the Varden's chances would be even smaller than before. So she had to warn the others, had to make them understand.

But before Arya had time to even open her mouth, Ajihad spoke again, silencing them.

"Quiet!" he said. "There is more. The Urgals aren't approaching over land, but under it. They're in the tunnels. We're going to be attacked from below."

"But why didn't the dwarves know about this sooner?" Eragon shouted to make himself heard over the voices which now filled the study yet again. "And how did the Urgals find the tunnels?"

"We're lucky to know about it this early", Orik bellowed back.

He started to explain about the maze of tunnels under Tronjheim, tunnels which had not been used properly since the day they were built. But Arya found it hard to concentrate on his words. She had never liked being under ground, in those narrow, twisting tunnels, but had got used to it over the years. And now they were to battle completely under ground, something she had never done before.

With this in mind, Arya wanted to shout to the others to stop wasting their time on talking about how the Urgals had found their way in. The history of the older dwarven cities could be told later. What they needed to think about now was what they were going to do. They had to make a plan!

But Arya did not mention this, partly because she did not want to be the one to complain, and partly because she knew it would only make Orik affronted. And quarreling now would lead them no where.

"Do you know how many Urgals there are?" Jörmundur asked after what felt like hours, though Arya knew it could not have gone more than ten minutes perhaps. "Are Galbatorix's troops with them? We can't plan a defence without knowing how large their army is."

"We do not know any of those things", Ajihad said heavily. "Though I know our survival depends on your last question. If Galbatorix has added his men to the Urgals, we won't have a chance. We are too few, and neither Orrin, nor the elves will have time to help us now. But if the Urgals are coming alone, we might be able to win. I've sent runners to both Surda and Du weldenvarden, so at least they won't be taken by surprise if we fall. Now, I've already talked to Hrothgar, and we've decided what to do. Our only hope is to contain the Urgals in three of the larger tunnels and channel them out into Farthen Dûr, so they won't swarm around in Tronjheim. I need you, Eragon and Arya, to help the dwarves collapse the remaining tunnels. The job is too big for normal means. Two groups of dwarves are already working on it, one outside Tronjheim and the other beneath it. Eragon, you're to work with the group outside. Arya, you'll be with the one under ground. Orik will guide you to them."

And how are we going to do that? arya wondered. How on earth are we going to close all those smaller tunnels in just a few hours? There must be some way, but she couldn't for the life of her work out what it might be.

"Why not close all the tunnels instead of leaving the large ones untouched?" Eragon was saying.

Orik became the one to reply.

"Because if we do, the Urgals will have to clear away the rubble themselves, and then they are very likely to go in a direction we don't want them to. Besides, if they're unable to reach us, they might turn towards other dwarven cities, which we won't be able to assist in time."

"There's also another reason", Ajihad said. "Hrothgar warned me that the network of tunnels below Farthen Dûr is so dense, sections of the city might sink under their own weight if we collapse all the tunnels. That is a risk we mustn't take."

The meeting ended shortly afterwards, and they all hurried off in different directions to complete their tasks. Arya wanted to speak to Ajihad alone, but he disappeared before she could push her way over to him.

"Come on!" Orik called, waving to her from the stairs leading down. "We mustn't let the others wait!"

The stairs and corridors seemed endless. The deeper into the mountain they got, the colder and darker it grew around them. Although Arya had no problems to see in the darkness, she always felt just as lost in this maze of never ending tunnels. She kept looking over her shoulder and trying to remember which passage they'd come from, but her efforts were, as usual, in vain.

"I must say we're lucky, despite all these difficulties", said Orik, and there was a tone of what seemed to be satisfaction in his voice. "The Urgals will at least not be able to take us by surprise, which I'm sure is what they intended to."

"That is true", Arya mumbled, considering. "It had not occurred to me before, but this attack does indeed remind me of ... of Durza's ambush for me in the forest. They appear to be using the same tactic now."

Orik suddenly turned and smiled unexpectedly at her through the darkness.

"Maybe we can even take advantage from the fact that we now know about their plans", he said.

"Maybe, but that advantage won't last very long, considering how large their army is", Arya pointed out. "And maybe that is not even what they are planning."

"No", Orik admitted, his smile fading as quickly as it had appeared. "You're right, of course. It was just an idea."

The group of dwarves, already working in one of the tunnels, stopped abruptly as they caught sight of Orik and Arya. However, many of them regained their grim expression as soon as their eyes fell upon her. Arya knew why. As an elf, she had never been able to get on very well with the dwarves, and they always mistrusted her abilities when she worked together with them. It had made her angry before, but now she did not care much about it. If they wanted to behave like that, it was their problem. However, she would not let them prevent her from doing what she had to.

"So ...", the leader of the group said, inspecting Arya with a doubtful look in his eyes. "You really think you are capable of doing this, do you?"

Orik shot the dwarf a stern look, but all Arya said was:

"Yes, I do."

And she went over to the tunnel they were supposed to collapse without another word.

It took them several hours to close all the tunnels, but it still was not as hard as Arya had thought it would be. All she needed to do was weaken the walls and the ceiling of the tunnel. Not entirely, but enough to make the tunnel sink into the ground under its own weight, just like Ajihad had said about Tronjheim. In fact, it was his words which had given her the idea.

Once they were finished, Arya and Orik hurried back to Tronjheim, to tell Ajihad about their success and ask him what to do next. They found the city in general disorder, with people running this way and that, trying to organize the troops and struggling to evacuate women and children iin time before the battle began. And all the time, that silent threat of being attacked from where they could not see their enemies was hanging over them, over everything they did and everything they said. It was such a thing which nobody mentioned, but which never truly left their minds.

Seeing Ajihad in the crowd, Arya waved and called to him:

"Ajihad!"

He turned and looked at her with surprise.

"Arya?" he said. "Are you finished already?"

"Yes", she said. "But please, could I have a private word with you? I know how much there still is to be done, but I'm sure it won't take more than a few minutes at most."

Ajihad looked at her and then said:

"Well, I suppose you could. Jörmundur! Lead your troop to the eastern gate! I'll meet you there as soon as I can."

Jörmundur, who had been standing nearby, nodded and ran off through the corridor. Meanwhile, Arya and Ajihad went into a small room, which might once have been used as a study of some kind.

"Well?" Ajihad said once he had closed the door behind them. "What is it?"

"Wel, I was ...", Arya began, suddenly finding it hard to explain her thoughts. "I was just wondering why the Urgals are coming here in the first place. I mean, I do know of course that Galbatorix has wanted to attack the Varden ever since it first was created. But I do not think that's his only reason. At first, I thought they were after me, but ... that seemed just so unlikely. They know by now that I will not tell them anything they want to know, so I'm of no use to them any more. So it must be Eragon and Saphira they are after! Galbatorix wants them, either to kill them or to bring them to Urû'baen - I don't know. What I do know, however, is that we ... we have to protect them! We cannot let Durza find them! If we do, then ..."

She stopped there, unable to keep the desperation out of her voice. However, Ajihad seemed to understand what she wanted to say and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"I will do what I can to protect Eragon and Saphira", he said. "You have my promise. The twins have, however, told me that Eragon is perfectly capable of creating wards himself. So you should not worry about it, arya."

"No", she said with a sigh. "I suppose I should not. I'm just not as certain about the twins as you are. Not after what I saw yesterday."

"I see what you mean", Ajihad said. "And I know you are caring much about the Varden. But there is nothing more we can do about it right now."

"Well, you're right", said Arya. "Thank you, anyway."

But as they left the room, Arya had to admit to herself that she had not only been acting out of anxiety for the Varden. It was something else, something she found very hard to explain. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Eragon had saved her life, and that she knew she had to find a way to repay him. But what if that was not the whole truth either? What if there was something else, something she had not thought of at all?


	5. Battle begins

Oh, at last I'm done with this chapter! I've been rewriting it several times, and here's the result. A bit shorter than the others, maybe. Also, I won't be describing the battle in detail, but will move on to the battle against Durza quite soon ...

Chapter 5: Battle begins

When the evening fell, all their preparations were complete. The men had taken their positions, ready to fight, all the gates to Tronjheim were sealed, and all the women and children had fled to the surrounding valleys. If both the Varden and the dwarves fell, there would be people guiding them to the safety of Surda.

It must be a horrible fate, thought Arya. Not having any idea about how it was going for their husbands, and then maybe having to be told that the battle was lost. And still, none of the women contradicted when they were told to leave a battle, or any other dangerous place. When she first came to the varden, Arya had been unable to understand why men should fight but not women. If it had only been because they had to take care of their children, it would at least have made sense to her. But there were women who had no children, and they too left with all the others. However, she had learnt over the years that questioning something which everyone else took for granted would not make any difference. In fact, the only thing she'd obtain by doing so was make the others think that she was odd, and that was one of the things she was trying to avoid.

Arya sighed, shook her head and looked around in an attempt to pull her wandering thoughts back to the reality. The sun was just sinking down and vanishing behind the mountains, but the fires and lanterns that were lit all over the field provided enough light for humans and dwarves to see by. An immense silence had fallen as soon as no more preparations needed to be done. No sound but the occasional murmering of two or three voices could be heard. It was as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting.

Waiting. The very word made the restlessness return to Arya's body, but she kept still, sitting alone with her bow in her lap. She had no wish to talk to anyone, did not want to hear their constant questions to which she had no more answers than anyone else.

A sudden movement ahead of her made Arya's body tense, but it was just Eragon, coming quickly towards her. He wore the same worried expression as he had done on the training field the day before, which Arya thought should not surprise her.

"You will fight?" Eragon asked as he reached her.

Within Arya, irritation rose, but she kept her voice calm as she replied:

"I do what I must."

"But it's too dangerous!"

Of course, Arya thought, once again unable to hold back her impatience. Eragon was not unlike any other human she had yet met, and the words exploded out of her before she knew what she was saying.

"Do not pamper me, human! Elves train both their men and women to fight. I am not one of your helpless females to run away whenever there is danger. I was given the task of protecting Saphira's egg, which I failed. So it is no more than right of me to guard you two on this field. You forget that I am stronger with magic than anyone here, including you. If the shade comes, who can defeat him but me? And who else has the right?"

Eragon looked helpless and slightly hurt, which made Arya feel a little ashamed of herself. Even though she knew that what she had told him was true, she should not have said it in an outbreak of fury like this.

"Then, stay safe", Eragon said, before adding: "Wiol pömnuria illian."

It was so clear what he wanted, and arya could not hide the fact from herself. He wanted to protect her, even though he was so much younger, even though he had far less knowledge of battle and defence than she did.

Turning away so as not having to meet that worried look, Arya murmered the only thing she could think of:

"It is my Wyrda to be here. The debt must be paid."

Without a word, Eragon turned and hurried back to Saphira, Murtagh and Orik. The short conversation had made Arya feel more uneasy than she was ready to let anyone know.

The hours crept by. The crater of Farthen Dûr was now completely black. Every now and then, messengers ran through the ranks of men and dwarves, causing a sudden stir of apprehension. But it always turned out to be false alarm. Never the less, it made them all restless, irritated and impatient.

Also, Arya could not help noticing that Eragon kept throwing her swift glances when he thought she was not looking. It was clear that their conversation had made him too feel uneasy, but he made no attempt to come and speak with her again. Eventually, she saw him lying down next to Saphira, and understood that he had gone to sleep. But she was unable to follow his example. Letting her mind drift away now, when things could happen so quickly, seemed just so silly.

Unable to think of anything else to do, Arya got up and went over to where Eragon, Saphira, Orik and Murtagh were waiting together. Just as she had expected, Eragon was asleep, but he was stirring uneasily. The others, however, were awake and alert, and they tensed for a moment as they saw her approach.

Arya sat near them, studying Murtagh's face in the darkness. He wore an expression that was both questioning and interested as he looked back at her.

"Murtagh?" she said suddenly, as a thought occurred to her. "May I speak with you for a while?"

Puzzled, Murtagh nodded and got to his feet, and he and Arya walked a few metres away from the others.

"Well?" Murtagh asked when they were sure no one was listening to them.

"I just want to thank you", said Arya. "I have already spoken to Eragon and Saphira, but I could not find an opportunity to see you."

Murtagh's face darkened.

"I think I know why", he muttered, evidently not knowing how well Arya, with her sharp ears, could hear him.

She tried to think of an answer, but found none.

Yesterday, Ajihad had spent quite a long time telling Arya as much as he knew about Murtagh: that he was the son of Morzan, that he clearly had not wanted to go to the Varden but had followed Eragon to help him. It had made Arya feel uncomfortable and embarrassed, because she knew that if it hadn't been for her, he would never have taken the risk of encountering the Varden. Nor did she think it had been right of the Varden to capture him, even if his father had been Morzan.

"I do not think Ajihad should have treated you as a prisoner", Arya said finally.

Murtagh blinked.

"You don't?" he said. "But ... why?"

"A son does not choose his father", said Arya, before she had time to consider if it was convenient or not. "And even if you are ... the son of Morzan, that cannot have affected you if you chose to help the new Dragon Rider."

"Or else it has", he muttered, his eyes narrowing. "Maybe that's why I did it. I'm not sure myself, because I've had ... other things to worry about than my reasons for doing what I did."

"Yes", she said. "I suppose you have. Maybe I should have tried to help you more. I just did not think I would be able to."

Murtagh was silent for a while, staring out over the darkening field, before he said:

"So this is it. If we lose this battle, we'll be dead by tomorrow evening. Or captured, maybe. And if we win, the Varden will finally have showed itself, won't it?"

"Yes", Arya said. "It will."

Murtagh gave her another sideways look.

"So ... you are willing to fight?" he asked, seeming to choose his words carefully. "I thought elves tried to avoid battle as much as possible."

"We do indeed", she said, surprised over how well he knew her people. "But we also do whatever we must."

"Then, why don't any other elves leave Du Weldenvarden to fight Galbatorix?"

Arya looked at him, not knowing what to reply. As a matter of fact, she herself had been wondering this countless times, but she had never managed to think of a satisfying answer.

"I suppose I shouldn't have asked", said Murtagh. "If I said anything inconvenient, I beg your pardon."

But Arya just shook her head, before saying:

"Maybe we should all rest while we can. Tomorrow will be a long day, after all."

A barely recognizable smile touched Murtagh's lips, and then he regained his grim expression.

"Yes", he said. "I suppose you're right."

With that, they returned to their separate places once more.

It was not long before Arya, in spite of herself, laid down on the ground and closed her eyes. The tiredness seemed to have caught up with her after the conversation with Murtagh, and however much she struggled, she could not prevent her mind from wandering away into the world of waking dreams.

Much later, Arya was woken by a shout.

"They're coming! Be ready, all of you!"

Springing to her feet, she raised her bow, ready to shoot. All the men and dwarves were standing with their weapons drawn, alert and ready. Eragon, however, was still asleep, and Arya rushed over to him.

As soon as she touched his arm, Eragon's eyes opened and he stood up.

"What?" he asked.

"It has begun", said Arya, and she knew that she had not succeeded in keeping the tone of sorrow out of her voice.

Silent and motionless, they waited. Eragon mounted Saphira, and Murtagh leapt onto the back of his horse. Arya felt her grip around the bow tightening. Her whole body was tense. She did not move a muscle.

"I hear them!" someone suddenly cried.

And at the same moment, the silence was shattered by the cries of the approaching Urgals, and Arya saw them running towards the opening of the tunnel. She looked away as a pillar of smoke rose into the air. She did not need to look, did not want to see the Urgals burned alive.

But it had not even gone aminute before mor Urgals appeared, jumping over the ones already lying dead on the ground, and rushing towards the men at alarming speed.

Arya, Eragon and all the other archers released their arrows, and watched as even more of the monsters fell to the ground. They shot again, but it did not seem to matter how many of the Urgals they managed to kill. The number of them was simply overwhelming, and Arya began to feel slightly desperate. What were they going to do? Were they supposed to kill all those monsters?

The Urgals continued determinately forwards, and soon they had managed to break through the palisade that the dwarves had built. And then, for the first time, the forces of the Varden and the Empire collided with a deafening sound.

Saphira rose into the air with a violent roar, at the same time as Murtagh turned his horse and galloped off into the middle of the chaos. Orik swung his axe and shouted something in the dwarven language which Arya was unable to make out, before he too vanished.

For a fraction of a second, Arya hesitated, wishing that the oncoming battle would not have to take place at all. Then, she too drew her sword, before throwing herself straight into the madness.


	6. Desperation

Well, here goes the next chaper. In my opinion, it's the best one so far. I hope you agree!

Also, I know I'm not using italics when someone speaks with thoughts. Sorry about that. It's because I'm having kind of trouble with my computer every time I try. I'll try to solve it as soon as I can. I promise!

Meanwhile, please put up with my ... strange way of writing!

And here comes:

Chapter 6: Desperation

Arya would never be able to remember exactly for how long the battle kept raging on. Soon, all her thoughts and feelings, all her doubts and worries, were pushed into a space of her mind where she could pay them no attention, and her reflexes took over completely. When an Urgal or a Kull rushed at her, she did whatever was necessary to defeat the opponent.

From time to time, she caught a glimpse of Saphira, flying swiftly over the field or diving down towards an approaching enemy. Every time this happened, Arya felt a new wave of strength surge through her body.

However, she also could tell that the battle must not last too long. As she chased after an Urgal who fled towards the other end of Farthen Dûr, she passed as many dead men and dwarves as Urgals. And she knew how small the Varden's army was by comparison with those tall, mighty and tireless Urgals. The shouts from the Varden had diminished remarkably by now, where as their enemies just seemed to be getting stronger and more triumphant with every minute that went by.

"Arya!" called Ajihad as he passed her at a run. "You realize there's something odd about those Urgals, don't you?"

"What?" she yelled back, but Ajihad was already out of earshot.

Why he had suddenly began to talk to her like that, Arya could not imagine. But still, it was impossible for her to completely forget his words.

When several hours had gone by, or so it felt, the tiredness began to really affect Arya. Her arm swinging the sword became heavy, her reactions were not as fast as before, and the time it took for her to gather her magic increased. Finally, an Urgal managed to hit her left arm with his axe, causing Arya to cry out in pain. Tears blurred her vision for a moment, before she wiped them away with her other hand, willing herself to ignore the pain and go on fighting.

She jumped forwards, but another Urgal came from behind, and then a third. And before Arya knew what was happening, she found herself in combat with three opponents at the same time. She needed all her concentration simply to keep from getting killed, and therefore did not see Saphira until the blue dragon was right next to her.

"Get on!" Eragon was calling, reaching out his hand towards her.

Without hesitating to ask why, Arya gripped his hand and swung herself onto Saphira's back, with her right arm wrapped around his waist.

But at the same time as Saphira prepared to leave the ground, an Urgal smashed his axe right in her chest, and she let out a roar of pain. While tilting sideways so strongly, that Arya felt as if she'd fall off at any moment, Saphira struggled up into the safety of the air. It was clear how difficult it was for her to fly, though Arya had not seen in what way the Urgal had injured her.

Down below them, the Urgal pulled back his arm with the axe once more, but Arya raised her hand, crying:

"Garjzla!"

Hit by a ball of emerald light, the Urgal fell to the ground.

For a brief moment, it flashed through Arya's mind that this was the same spell as Durza had used. Then, remembering what the Urgal had done to Saphira, she decided not to think more about that. At least not yet.

As they flew, Eragon leaned forwards in the saddle with a slightly desperate expression, apparently deep in conversation with Saphira. Arya was desperate to ask what had happened to Saphira, and to ask where they were going. But she knew she must let Eragon finish his conversation first, and managed to keep quiet.

Eventually, Eragon turned.

"The twins told me they'd heard that the Urgals are trying to get into Tronjheim", he explained. "We'll have to close the tunnel they're making. I don't know exactly what happened to Saphira, but she can't breathe properly and doesn't know if she'll make it all the way to Isidar Mithrim."

"I'll stay and help her", Arya said without having to think. "Once she is free of the armour, I will join you."

"Thank you", said Eragon in apparent relief.

The flight to the Dragonhold seemed to take much longer than it should do. All the time, Arya was aware of how difficult it seemed to be for Saphira to move, and breathe. What could the Urgal have done to her in that short time? And would she be able to heal her?

As soon as they landed on the Dragonhold, Arya's feeling that something was wrong increased. Because the twins were not there, as they should be to watch the battle. The silence here was immense compared to the deafening sounds of the battle.

Jumping down from Saphira, Eragon let out a gasp. Arya followed, and then understood why it had been so hard for Saphira to fly. Four of the plates covering her breast had been smashed brutally together by the Urgal. To free Saphira of the armour, Arya would have to bend the metal apart, which she reckoned would take a certain amount of time, and strength too. Well, she thought. I have to do it, so I shall not think of how difficult it's going to be.

After putting a hand on Saphira's side and saying something to her which was inaudible to Arya, Eragon hurried out onto Isidar Mithrim on his own. Arya and Saphira were left alone, on the very top of Tronjheim.

Arya wasted no time to wait or wonder, but set to work immediately. She had never been that good at handling metals, but she did know some things about them, and it was not long before she had invented a spell that would bend apart the armour. But the question remained: had she got the strength? Before the battle had begun, she would not have had a doubt. But now, when she was exhausted and wounded, and she could not afford to make any mistakes, she did not feel that certain any more.

- Arya, listen to me!

The voice had broken through Arya's defensive barriers even before she had time to realize what was happening. Straightening up, she cursed herself for letting someone else penetrate her defence that easily. Usually, she was able to sense another mind long before it reached hers, and could always block her own thoughts. Even in Gil'ead, when she had been so close to death, she had been capable of doing this. So why had it not worked now?

- Don't panic! said that same, weary and strangely familiar voice of ...

- Saphira? Arya exclaimed, both relieved and surprised. But ... what are you ...

- Listen to me, Arya! Saphira repeated in an urgent voice. Eragon just told me what is really going on. There are no Urgals there. It's Durza, and Eragon is alone with him! We have to do something now! So please, borrow my strength and perform your spell, and then we can ...

Saphira's last words were lost in the storm of fear that once more filled Arya's entire mind. Durza! was the only thing she could think. But ... why? What was she going to do? How would she be able to rescue Eragon now? It was too late. And how could the twins have been lying?

No, Arya told herself. No, do not think of that! Think of how you are going to save Eragon instead; that's important. But no ideas came, and she spread her hands helplessly.

- I do not know how! she said to Saphira. How to save Eragon, I mean. If he's already encountered Durza ...

- Think of that later, Saphira said. If you haven't forgotten your spell, my advice is that you should perform that first. Then, we can make a plan to save Eragon. I'm his dragon, so I should know what he can and cannot do. Don't you think?

- Well, yes, said Arya, a little calmer now. Yes, of course ...

After breathing deeply several times, Arya was ready to go on again. Relying both on her own and Saphira's strength, she began to speak in the Ancient Language, watching as Saphira's armour was torn apart with a terrible sound which echoed in the stillness of the Dragonhold. She hadn't got time to catch the plates before they fell to the ground, but hardly cared.

As soon as Saphira was free of the armour, the dragon ran through the archway and out onto Isidar Mithrim, with Arya following close behind. But of course, there was no one there either. Eragon must have used Vol Turin, Arya thought. But I cannot do the same. There is not enough time.

- What are we going to do? Arya cried out in desperation, even her mental voice trembling.

- I have no more idea about that than you do, Saphira replied, and there was concern in her voice as well as fear. We've got to distract him in some way.

Distract, Arya thought, clinging to the word. We have to distract Durza. But how? She looked down at the Isidar Mithrim, glittering in the light of the sun above their heads. And suddenly, she knew how to do it.

Jumping onto Saphira's back, Arya tightened the bands around her legs, like she had seen Eragon doing, and then said:

- I do not know if this will work, but it is the only way I can think of. Please, be ready!

Gathering all her remaining strength and hoping for dear life that it would be enough, Arya shouted:

"Jierda!"

The crack as the Star Sapphire broke resounded in the still air. And then they were falling, falling together with all those sharp, glittering fragments which now were all that remained of the Isidar Mithrim. Falling through the air, which grew colder and colder with every second, towards the floor, where two figures were standing. No, Arya realized. One of them was kneeling, and the triumphant expression on the other's face was one she would never be able to forget.

"Letta!" Arya yelled, causing all the fragments of the Isidar Mithrim to stop in mid-air.

The effort of holding them up made her tremble, but she refused to let go. Down below, there were shouts and other sounds, which she right now was unable to define. And then there was a flash of what seemed to be blue light. Or blue fire?

The tiredness was one arya had never experienced before. No clear thoughts or feelings could reach her now, not even fear.

Then, Saphira's clear voice flowed into her mind once more, saying:

- He's gone, Arya! Durza is dead! We did it!

- We ... did it, Arya murmered, hardly able to put the words into order.

- Yes! Saphira said.

Had she been imagining things? Was it just because she was too tired to understand the tones of people's voices? Or had Saphira sounded ... proud? Proud, not only of Eragon, but of Arya as well? As if Arya too was united to her, like a Rider?

Still not able to fully understand this, Arya felt her thoughts gliding out of her grip. Whatever questions she wanted to ask Saphira, they could all wait until later.


	7. Reunion

So this is ... well, the 7th chapter. I don't think there's so much to say about it, and hopefully, you'll be eager to read it after the cliffhanger in chapter 6.

So now, you won't have to wait any more ...

Chapter 7: Reunion

"So ... you think she'll survive, do you?"

"Well, of course she'll survive! What do you think of her? It's Arya we're speaking about, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is, of course. But still ... that was a huge effort, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was, and a stupid reason for it as well! Breaking the Isidar Mithrim ... You realize how angry the dwarves will be when they find out, don't you?"

The voices seemed to be dragging Arya towards the wakefulness, despite her efforts to remain in the warm, soothing sleep. She did not want to wake, but knew she would have to. Dimly, she sensed that there was something she had to tell someone, but she could not remember what it was. It must be something important, or else it wouldn't keep nagging at her consciousness like this.

The sound of a door slamming finally made Arya's eyes flicker open. She looked around, but the large room was unfamiliar. It was not the same room as she had woken in a few days ago. This one was larger, and there was room for more than one bed in here.

By the door stood a woman whom she recognized at once. And at the same time, all that had happened came back to her.

"Angela!" she burst out, sitting up and fixing her eyes upon the herbalist. "Are Eragon and Saphira all right? Have they told you what happened?"

"Dear me!" Angela said, hurrying over to Arya and placing a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down, please! Do you never rest?"

Ignoring her question, Arya said:

"I have to know what happened! Did Eragon and Saphira ... survive?"

At the same time as she spoke the words, terror struck Arya like a physical blow. What if Eragon and Saphira had not survived? Closing her eyes, she tried to relive that moment in the air, high above the floor of Tronjheim, when she'd seen Eragon and Durza. Eragon had been kneeling, but she had not managed to see more than that. and Durza! He had been standing over Eragon, just like he had done with her in Gil'ead. But ...

"They are alive", Angela said wearily. "Barely. I can't understand how you two manage to get into such a lot of trouble within just a few minutes."

"May I see them?" asked Arya, but Angela shook her head.

"Certainly not!" she said. "Eragon is not even awake yet, and you ought to rest for longer than this before you do anything."

Arya tried to raise a hand in protest, but stopped when she noticed how stiff and clumsy her arm felt. Looking down at it, she realized Angela had bandaged it while she was asleep. But for how long had she been asleep? And what was going on out there in the battle? Had they lost, or won, or what?

"What's happened?" Arya said slowly, taking a deep breath and trying not to sound as upset as she felt because of the lack of information. "Have we lost or won the battle?"

"We won, I think", said Angela, sinking into a chair beside her bed with an air of exhaustion about her. "However, you and Eragon have kept me so busy, I haven't heard any news lately. There might be something going on out there right now which I know nothing about."

She let out a sigh, but Arya was not listening.

So they had won. They had won the battle, they had killed Durza. There was no Shade in Alagaësia any longer. Saphira's words seemed to come back to her, echoing through her mind. "We did it."

Yes, thought Arya. We did it. But the joy and the triumph she had expected to feel simply did not come. All she felt right now was anxiety. Anxiety and an immense tiredness.

"And ...", Arya said. "How did I come to be here? If Eragon was unconscious, who told you about the combat with Durza and all that?"

"Saphira", said Angela. "I let her into my mind, because I realized I had to. I don't think I had any choice either. Anyway, she came flying here with you on her back and Eragon dangling from her claws. Both of you were unconscious, and Saphira herself was almost incoherent. I don't know if she was distressed or what. But she did manage to tell me all I needed to know. She'd taken you to me, she said, because I was the best healer she knew. I don't know about that, though. I'm a herbalist, and a seeress, not a healer. That's a huge difference."

"I do not think Saphira pays that much attention to names", said Arya, smiling almost in spite of herself. "She will call you whatever she likes."

"Yes, I bet she will", said Angela, getting to her feet again. "Now, I'll go over to see how Eragon is. Don't you dare do anything while I'm gone!"

With that, she turned and left the room.

Arya spent the next half hour or so drifting through a state in which fragments, both from the waking world and the world of dreams, floated by like flakes of snow, impossible to catch and impossible to ignore. When she finally was woken by Angela shaking her arm, she felt almost as disorientated as she had done when she first awoke in Farthen Dûr.

"Arya!" Angela was saying loudly. "Do you want to see Saphira and Murtagh or not?"

"Well, yes, I do ...", Arya mumbled, getting to her feet. "So ... Murtagh is all right then? I have not seen him since the battle began."

"He's been unconscious, like you", Angela explained, leading the way out into a large hall. "But yes. I'll have to return to Eragon, because I think he'll wake up quite soon. You can see him then, I think."

And she hurried off through another door, at the opposite end of the hall.

Arya was met by a deep growl, and Saphira moved forwards to greet her. The dragon looked almost as tired as Angela, but otherwise completely unharmed. Without being able to help herself, Arya laid a hand on her side, feeling a wave of warmth and power stream into her.

- I have been waiting for you to wake up, Saphira told her. Didn't you see when I breathed fire?

- Breathed fire? Arya asked, completely bewildered. When?

- Just after you broke the Isidar Mithrim, Saphira said in what sounded like irritation.

- No, I did not see that, Arya admitted. I'm sorry, Saphira, but ...

Saphira's tone changed from irritation to laughing, and Arya understood that she had only been pretending.

- Oh, it does not matter, the dragon said. I just wondered.

Turning to look at Murtagh, Arya was surprised to see a faint smile on his face. He had a bandage around his head, but hardly seemed to notice. It was clear that he had been in combat before.

"Angela told me what you, Eragon and Saphira did", he said. "That was incredible! I'd have liked to see it. You breaking the Isidar Mithrim, Saphira breathing fire for the first time and Eragon killing a Shade! He must be the first one in a century, at least, to have done a thing like that."

"Yes ...", Arya mumbled, though she hardly knew what she was confirming. "What happened to you? And what happened in the battle? It was going badly when I left. How did you manage to win?"

"It was actually quite odd", said Murtagh. "When Durza was killed, something that looked like ... balls of light flew across Farthen Dûr. And as soon as the Urgals saw them ... it was like a spell lifted, almost. They all turned and began to battle against each other, and it wasn't hard for us to defeat them. Some of them fled into the tunnels, though. There are men chasing after them now. I tried to do the same, but one of them hit me in the head and then I was sent back here."

Silence fell in the hall after his words. None of them could think of any more to say. Arya knew that feeling of desperate impatience only too well, and judging by Murtagh's expression, he did as well.

It felt as though hours went by. Arya was sitting with her head in her hands, struggling to prevent her worried thoughts from taking over her completely. Murtagh was walking up and down the length of the hall, muttering under his breath as he went.

Finally, the door to Eragon's room swung open and Angela appeared, saying:

"He's awake now and he wants to see you. Come on!"

In sudden relief, Arya jumped up and followed Angela and Murtagh into the room, with Saphira squeezing her head in behind her.

Eragon was lying in the bed, wrapped in several blankets. He looked pale and weak, but when he caught sight of them, his face broke into a smile. Arya could feel his mind reaching out to touch Saphira's, but was unable to hear the words they spoke to each other.

"We've been sitting in the hall for hours", Murtagh said. "Waiting for you to wake up."

"What ... what happened?" Eragon asked, his voice as faint as he looked.

For a short moment, his eyes rested upon Arya, and then they returned to Murtagh, who had begun to speak.

Arya listened silently as Murtagh explained, once more, how the Varden and the dwarves had finally managed to defeat the Urgals. She had difficulties shaking off that feeling Eragon's eyes had left within her, even though she knew she had to. It was so strange! This was not the first time something like this happened, and it was certainly beyond her ability to understand it.

"But where were the twins?" Eragon asked. "They weren't where they were supposed to be. I couldn't contact them."

"I was told they bravely fought off a group of Urgals that broke into Tronjheim somewhere else", Murtagh said.

Arya was silent. Not until now did she remember the strange absence of the twins. But like Eragon had said, they had been supposed to keep watch from the Isidar Mithrim, hadn't they? And even if they had been taken by surprise, they would surely have had time to shout something to Eragon. But evidently, they had not done that, and it worried Arya more than she let the others know.

Slowly, Arya explained to Eragon about how she and Saphira had broken through the Isidar Mithrim, and how she'd been holding the pieces in the air, so as they would not hit Eragon when they reached the floor. But to her surprise, her words caused an expression of fear to appear on Eragon's face. Pulling down the blankets and twisting around in the bed, he revealed the reason.

Arya could hardly keep from wincing as she saw the long scar, stretching across Eragon's back. It was made by Durza, and she knew that it was not only a scar, though she was unsure in which ways it would affect Eragon. Someone would have to heal him, but not she. She had never been good at healing. But if they went to Ellesméra, then maybe ...

Making an effort to return to the reality, Arya said in a quiet voice:

"You have paid a terrible price for your deed, Eragon Shadeslayer."

Bursting into a sudden laugh, Murtagh exclaimed:

"Yes! Now you're exactly like me."

But Arya had drifted away into her own thoughts yet again. Despite the terrible price Eragon had had to pay, she could not help feeling a thrill rising inside her as she repeated the word to herself: Shadeslayer. That was what Eragon was now, a Súndavar-Vergandí. And Brom, she was sure, would have been proud of him.


	8. Unexpected happenings

Well, all I'll say about this chapter is that I'm glad to have it finished ... Maybe it's because I've been so tired lately - I don't know. Anyway, I hope you like it more than I do!

Chapter 8: Unexpected happenings

The following three days passed in a blur of things that needed to be done. Shortly after the battle, Ajihad, Murtagh, the twins and some other men and dwarves disappeared into the tunnels, to catch and kill the Urgals who had managed to escape. Arya would have wanted to help, but stayed where she was for two reasons. Firstly, she was unwilling to fight in those narrow, twisting tunnels. If they were surrounded there, she thought, they would have nowhere to escape.

Of course, she would have been able to stand that, but her other reason for staying in Tronjheim was much more complicated. She wanted to stay near Eragon. Ever since the battle, he had seemed so fragile and hurt, even though both Arya and Angela had assured themselves that he was perfectly healed. The battle seemed to have weakened him in a way that troubled Arya deeply. Several times, she had seen him walking across the battle field, where the men and dwarves still lay, dead and motionless, to help recovering the bodies. But it had never gone long before he and Saphira returned and vanished into their new room, which was located at the bottom of Tronjheim.

Ever since it had become clear that Arya was the one who had broken the Isidar Mithrim, she had been the object of several angry looks from the dwarves. Although a part of her shared their sorrow, because the Star Sapphire had been a beautiful object, she could not help wondering what they cared most about, their Star Sapphire or ending the war. But she knew that if she began discussing with them, she would get nowhere. And besides, it would be an excellent excuse for some of the dwarven clans to do something much worse than just throwing her angry looks.

The enmity, if it could be called that, between Arya and the dwarves had been going on as far back as she could remember. Elves and dwarves were simply too unlike to get on very well with each other, but Arya had over the years done her best to ignore it. The only exception was when she visited Celbedeil, the great cathedral located in Tarnag. For some reason which she could not explain even to herself, though she had tried several times, she just could not stand the dwarves' religion, and the way they talked to their gods and goddesses. As if that would help!

A shout from behind made Arya, who had been wandering without any real purpus, turn to see what was going on. Orik was running towards her with an air of excitement about him, and he panted as though he'd been crossing a long distance.

"Ajihad and the others are coming back!" he exclaimed as he stopped in front of her. "And he wants you to be there when he arrives. Come on!"

Without waiting for an answer, the dwarf turned to run back the same way he had come, with Arya following, her spirits suddenly rising.

By the time they arrived to the western gate of Tronjheim, a small group of people had already gathered there. Lanterns were lit at the mouth of the tunnel, and the atmosphere was excited. Arya looked around for Eragon and Saphira, but saw neither of them. Surprised, she turned to Orik.

"Where are Eragon and Saphira?" she asked. "I thought they'd be here as well."

"Jörmundur went to get them", Orik said. "As for where they are ... I don't know."

"I wish they would not just wander about", Arya complained, though she had no idea what difference it would make if she said it aloud. "If they only wanted to explore Tronjheim, I would at least understand it! But I did not save them from Durza for nothing. And I do not want them to ..."

"Don't you think they know that?" asked Orik, a look of amusement spreading across his face as he spoke.

Arya did not reply.

Soon enough, however, Jörmundur appeared with Eragon and Saphira close behind. As they silently took their places, Arya could see Eragon's eyes turning towards her for a fraction of a second. And again, that odd expression, like concerned and confusion mingled, passed over his face. Then, he looked away, leaving Arya with a growing feeling of frustration, since she seemed unable to understand this.

It had gone about half an hour, Arya guessed, when she finally was able to make out the warriors coming from the tunnel, to form a group which then began marching towards the Varden. Ajihad was among them, wearing an expression of what might be pride, though it was hard to tell from this distance.

Arya would never be sure when she first realized that something was wrong. Probably, it was when she noticed the number of figures now rushing from the tunnel behind Ajihad and the warriors. She had not thought that the group chasing the Urgals had been that large.

Then, Eragon cried out while leaping onto Saphira:

"Urgals!"

Arya ran without thinking, barely managing to keep up with Saphira as the blue dragon leapt forwards. But she could see that they were not fast enough to be able to assist in the battle. The Urgals were already surrounding the men and dwarves, who fought in desperation. For one, incredibly brief moment, it seemed as though the defenders were winning. Then, the Urgals overpowered them, and before Arya really knew what was happening, only Ajihad, Murtagh and the twins were still alive. Not long afterwards, the Urgals had returned into the darkness of the tunnel, and only motionless bodies remained.

With a feeling of fear and despair, Arya let her gaze wander over the field, which looked to her horribly similar to the battle field further away from Tronjheim, searching vainly for survivors. She saw Eragon kneeling by the side of a body and ran up to him. Then, as her eyes fell upon the man on the ground, Arya froze where she stood.

Ajihad lay on his back, his chest torn and cut so badly, Arya knew no spells could heal him. Grief possessed her as she heard the leader of the Varden whisper a few last words, directed to Eragon only.

"Eragon! Listen to me, Eragon! I have one last command for you. You must promise me that you won't let the Varden fall. They are the only hope for resisting the Empire. They must be kept strong. You must promise me ..."

"I promise", said Eragon, his voice quite steady, despite his apparent efforts to hold back his tears.

"Then, peace be with you, Eragon Shadeslayer."

And with those words, the man Arya had been relying upon for years by now, the man who had always been the strong one in the battle, died. His face looked unnaturally peaceful, compared to the wounds that had finally caused his death.

"Stydja unin mor'ranr", Arya whispered, fighting back the tears which were burning behind her eyelids.

Then, she turned to Eragon and said, with as much determination as she could:

"He is right. You must do what you can in the war against Galbatorix. I will assist where possible."

Eragon did not answer, but merely looked out over the field yet again.

A long moment dragged by. Eragon and Saphira were evidently speaking to each other, every now and then glancing towards the tunnel. Arya's body was shaking with sobs which she was unable to hold back. So shortly after Brom's death! she thought. Now what were they going to do? Who would be leading the Varden now?

Well, at least she could answer her last question. The only possible leader now was, of course, Nasuada. And Nasuada, Arya knew, was more than competent. But still, it would not stop troubling her.

Eragon was the first to break the silence, and his eyes were almost pleading as he fixed them upon Arya.

"Please", he said. "Saphira just pointed out that even if Murtagh and the twins are captured by the Urgals, they might still be alive. I don't want to ask you to do this, but ... can't you ... follow them? Please!"

His face was so desperate and full of grief, that Arya could not resist, even though she knew how unpleasant a trip into the tunnels on her own would surely be. This was not something she could choose to do or not do, she told herself. She did it for Eragon.

"Wiol ono", Arya said, before turning and running away towards the opening to the tunnel.

She did not look back once.

Deeper and deeper into the earth Arya ran, and colder and colder the air around her grew. The silence here was immense, and the darkness seemed to be pressing at her eyes with an intensity that surprised her. She kept her mind closed, but alert for anything unusual. But nothing of the sort came. And nor could she find any other trace of the Urgals, or of their prisoners. However, there were no other tunnels which she could take, no other tunnels which they might have taken. So she ran on, determined to accomplish her goal.

Hours passed. Or maybe it was much shorter than that. Again, Arya lost all sense of time as she ran. Nor did she care about how tired she was, or about the fact that her last meal had been early the same morning. As always when she had decided to do something, she was beyond such things.

But however much Arya looked for the Urgals and the prisoners, and whatever spells she used to try and discover anything about them, they could as well have been on the opposite side of Alagaësia. And it did not make sense! she thought angrily. The Urgals were no magicians, so they should not be able to cast a spell to prevent anyone from finding them, which seemed to be exactly what they had done. Helplessness filled Arya's mind, and she had just decided to go no further, that it was beyond her ability to find any trace of Murtagh or the twins, when she saw it.

On the ground, just beyond the next corner, lay one of the twins' white robes. It was torn and bloody, but there was no mistake. Picking it up with slightly trembling hands, Arya walked around the corner, and then stopped dead.

In front of her was a broad chasm, which marked the end of this tunnel clearly enough. Beyond it, she could see nothing but darkness, and it was quite obvious what must have happened. The Urgals had thrown Murtagh and the twins into this abyss. And then? She did not know, but realized it hardly mattered.

Kneeling on the very edge of the chasm, Arya felt tears of disappointment and shame come into her eyes. Even though she had not liked the twins very much, and even though she had only known Murtagh for a few days, she knew so well how her news would affect the others. Eragon would mourn for Murtagh, of course, and the others in Du Vrangr Gata would have to choose another leader. And there were not many magicians in the Varden who were as powerful as the twins, Arya was sure. So now, they had lost both Ajihad and the leaders of Du Vrangr Gata during a few hours only!

A big tear dropped down onto Arya's palm, where it lay like glass. Like water. Like something she could use for Scrying.

Suddenly, with renewed strength, Arya raised her hand and said, while concentrating as hard as she could on the twins:

"Draumr kópa!"

But no image of the two men appeared. She tried the spell again, with Murtagh this time, but with the same result. All she could see was the darkness around her. None of the three she was looking for could be found.


	9. Consequences beyond control

Hello everyone!

First of all, I would like to thank you for all the reviews. I'm also glad that there are people who both favorite and follow my story!

Next, I must say that this is one of my better chapters, despite how long it took me to write it. But of course, that is for you to judge.

And third, some information about my story. In the next two chapters or so, I'm probably going to skip quite a lot, because if I don't, this book will soon have about 100 chapters. So I'll try to describe what I think is the most important, and leave the other things for the moment. Maybe there's someone else out there who thinks that what I've skipped is REALLY important, but ... well, this is how I'm writing.

And now, I shall stop writing a whole chapter about just my thoughts, and go on to the actual story. Here it comes!

Chapter 9: Consequences beyond control

It was with a heavy feeling that Arya returned to Farthen Dûr late that evening, to tell the rest of the Varden what had happened in the darkness of the tunnels. Like she had expected, neither of them made any effort to conceal their grief. Eragon met her gaze a moment longer than any of the others, and he wore the same pleading expression he had done earlier. But they got no opportunity to speak with so many others around.

Arya went to bed as soon as she could, to fall into an exhausted sleep, in which all that had happened today drifted through her mind. Once again, she saw Ajihad, lying dead in front of the opening to the tunnel, saw Murtagh's and the twins clothes, scattered along the edge of that chasm, and Eragon with that pleading look in his eyes. And the pictures would not leave her, however hard she struggled to push them away.

When morning came, she was as exhausted as the night before, and she stayed in bed for much longer than she knew she should do, with only sad and bitter thoughts for company. When she finally got up and left the room, she found the atmosphere among the Varden as dark as her dreams. The word of Ajihad's death had passed around even faster than news usually did, and shock seemed to be filling the entire mountain.

Arya wandered alone through the corridors, without the slightest idea what to do. No one seemed to be wanting her, and all she wanted to do was disappear. Her thoughts were slow and tired. She wondered where Eragon and Saphira might be. How were they handling the loss? Suddenly, Arya wished Saphira was here, to comfort her as well as she was probably conforting Eragon right now. But no. Saphira was Eragon's dragon, not Arya's. And although Arya had been longing to be a Dragon Rider ever since she was little, she knew she was not going to become one.

But, said a small voice, somewhere in the back of her mind. If the two other dragon eggs are freed from Galbatorix ... So what? she retorted, as if she was really speaking with a person and not just with herself. Even if someone does manage to steal the two remaining eggs, there are hundreds, thousands, of people who are likely to become their Rider. Not me! So I'd better just stop daydreaming and do something.

"So there you are, Arya!"

Startled, Arya turned to see Angela walking just beside her. I am not wary enough, she thought. I cannot remain in my own thoughts like this. If that had been an enemy, I would have been dead by now.

"What?" said Arya, in an attempt to sound indifferent and matter-of-fact, more than confused and frightened.

"I was just wondering where you might be", Angela replied, her face showing more sympathy than her usual pleasure. "I must say I'm surprised to find you this easily."

"Then, where did you think I would be?" Arya could not help asking.

"Well, I don't know. Outside Farthen Dûr, I suppose. I got the impression that you tried to escape the tunnels as often s you could."

"I do", Arya confirmed. "But right now ... I don't know ..."

For a moment, Angela just looked at her in silence, as if trying to decide what to say. It was impossible to read the herbalist's expression, as it always had been. Arya could never decide what to think of Angela. One moment, she was cheerful and eager to talk about anything, and then, all of a sudden, she could seem more like an old lady - quiet and thoughtful. And she knew so much more than Arya would ever have expected her to, even though she had so little power over magic.

"I heard you were the one who tried to follow the Urgals yesterday", Angela said finally, when the silence between them had lasted almost too long. "And I know they escaped you."

Arya grimaced as she replied:

"I do not understand it! I've been reliving it over and over again, and it just does not make sense! The Urgals were no magicians, and all Durza's spells were broken when the spirits within him fled. Were they not?"

"They were", Angela confirmed. "But you mustn't forget that Durza was not acting on his own initiative. All his orders came, probably, from Galbatorix."

"So ...", Arya began, irritated with herself for not realizing what Angela had jus pointed out. "Those Urgals could as well have been acting on Galbatorix's orders?"

"That seems logical enough", said Angela. "Does it not?"

"Well, yes", Arya admitted. "It does, of course. I just ... did not think like that."

"No, I can see that", Angela said, her usual cheerful expression returning.

Arya was just going to say that she could manage very well without Angela's comments, when she heard running footsteps behind her. It was the same boy who had called for her when the Urgals attacked Farthen Dûr, and he looked just as urgent and out of breath as he had done then. Following him was Nasuada, dressed in black and with an air of vulnerability that Arya had never seen about her before.

"Lady Arya", the boy said. "Jörmundur wants you to come to his study. The Council of Elders wants to speak with you and Nasuada."

"The Council of Elders?" Arya repeated, a sudden cold sensation rising within her. "I'm coming."

As she turned to walk away together with Nasuada and the boy, she noticed Angela's troubled expression, and she understood it. All the Council wanted was gain power themselves, she knew. So what did they want her?

The members of the council were sitting around the table when Arya and Nasuada entered the room, but they were not alone. With them were, to arya's surprise, Eragon and Saphira. Both of them were wearing the same troubled and thoughtful expression, mingled with what might be anxiety, though it was hard to tell.

As Jörmundur helped Nasuada to a chair at the table, Arya noticed Eragon trying to do the same for her. But she remained where she was, constantly aware of the tention that seemed to be filling the room. It was just as powerful as the shock among the rest of the Varden, and Arya got the feeling that these two feelings were, somehow, connected to each other.

Jörmundur greeted Arya briefly, then turned to Nasuada and, in short words, expressed his and the council's sympathy for her. However, it was clear that they had something else in mind as well.

The moment this thought occurred to Arya, she felt another mind, gently brushing against her consciousness. She turned towards it with a mixture of surprise and happiness within her.

- Saphira? she asked.

- Yes, said the dragon. There is something I need to tell you, Arya. The Council of Elders summoned us here before you, to discuss who would succeed Ajihad as leader of the Varden.

The cold feeling inside Arya intensified. This was exactly what she had feared, and she realized suddenly that she should not have wasted so much time this morning. She should have gone straight here to try and discover what was happening.

- They have decided that it shall be Nasuada, Saphira went on. However, that is not all. The council wants us, or Eragon, to swear fealty to the Varden, so that they can control both him and Nasuada. He promised not to say anything about this to anyone else, but I did not. That is why I was the one who told you, and not Eragon.

Horror-struck, Arya listened as Jörmundur and the others in the council explained their reasons, more or less forcing Nasuada to accept. But still, the last thing Saphira had told Arya worried her the most. Eragon had agreed to swear fealty to the Varden, allowing himself too to be controlled by the Council of Elders? But why? How could he have been so foolish? And Saphira s well! Arya knew of course that the dragon was not old, but even so ...

- Meet me in the library as soon as you can, Arya said to Saphira, who agreed and then withdrew her mind.

With short, but clear words, Nasuada accepted her position, and Arya saw the council's triumphant looks. Each member spoke briefly to Nasuada, before one of the men turned to Arya.

"Will the elves find this agreeable?" he demanded, causing Arya to raise an eyebrow in irritation.

"I cannot speak for my queen", she said. "But I find nothing objectionable to it. Nasuada has my blessing."

Everyone in the room, except perhaps for Eragon and Saphira, beamed.

Soon, the Council of Elders left the room, Arya following them. However, she heard clearly what Nasuada said to Eragon:

"Eragon, will you please stay?"

The members of the council looked alarmed, and Arya shared their feelings. But she showed nothing of it, and simply swept from the room. If Nasuada wanted to talk to Eragon alone, Arya could find no reason not to allow it. Nor had she got the right.

Several anxious minutes dragged by. Arya sat alone at one of the tables in the library, staring at the door. When Eragon and Saphira finally entered the large room, feelings of impatience and anger had joined the anxiety, and she fixed her eyes upon Eragon as he sat down.

And then, when Arya finally was unable to control herself any longer, the words exploded out of her.

"What have you done?" she burst out, clearly startling Eragon. "What have you promised the Varden? What have you done?"

As Arya said the last words, she even reached out for Eragon's mind, so that he would not be able to escape her question. Fear flashed across his face.

"We only did what we had to do", he said, a tone of defence in his voice. "I'm ignorant of elves' customs, so if our actions upset you, I apologize. There's no need to be angry."

"Fool!" shouted Arya. "You know nothing about me!"

And then, she explained, with fury still filling both her voice and her mind, about the seven decades she had spent with the Varden. She told Eragon about how she had carried Saphira's egg between Farthen Dûr and Du Weldenvarden for fifteen years, and how Brom had been helping her.

When she had finished, Eragon said:

"We only accepted the Council's demands because we knew we had to. But we have sworn fealty to Nasuada, not the Varden. So she's the only one who can control us, not the council. That was the only thing we could do!"

In the silence following his words, Arya felt the shame rising inside her. Of course, it had never been her intention to shout at Eragon like that, and she knew how impolite, and even frightening, she had been.

Leaning back and studying Eragon's face, Arya said quietly:

"Your position is not what I would have hoped, but better than I had thought. I was impolite. Saphira and you understand more than I thought. Your compromise will be accepted by the elves, though you must never forget your debt to us for Saphira."

"I never will", Eragon promised, and she could tell he meant what he said.

They stayed where they were for several minutes, before Eragon said:

"You have been gone for such a long time. Do you miss Ellesméra? Or did you live elsewhere?"

Arya looked away as she answered, unwilling to meet his eyes. It was clear that Eragon wanted to learn more about her, and a part of her wanted to tell him. But she knew that he must not know too much about her until they reached Ellesméra. Then, the knowledge would be inevitable.

"Ellesméra was, and always shall be, my home", Arya said, still in the same, quiet tone. "I have not lived in my family's house since I left, when the walls and windows were draped with spring's first flowers. The times I have visited the forest since then have been too short to be counted as more than vanishing memories, by our measures."

"It must be hard to live among all these dwarves and humans, without any of your kind", Eragon said slowly.

It was a while before Arya could think of anything to say. She did not want to speak about anything this emotional. Not with someone she had not known for more than a week's time. Of course, Saphira was there as well, but she was still eager to change the subject.

"You speak of humans as if you weren't one", she said finally, which made Eragon frown slightly.

"Maybe ...", he began. "Maybe I am something else. A mixture of two races. Saphira lives inside me as much as I live in her. We share feelings, senses and thoughts, even to the point when we are more one mind than two."

His words caused the longing to be a Dragon Rider, which Arya had been suppressing ever since the morning, to intensify. She looked at Saphira, and was suddenly glad that the dragon could not read her thoughts.

"That is how it should be", she said to Eragon. "A pact more ancient than you can imagine links you. You won't fully understand what it means to be a Dragon Rider until your training is completed. But that must wait until after the funeral. In the meantime, may the stars watch over you."

And with that, Arya got up from her chair and left the library, her mind full of all that had happened, even though the day had hardly begun.


	10. Arrival at Tarnag

Well, you'd think that after having worked on a chapter for days, I'd be able to publish something worth reading. Well, in my opinion, I haven't. Let's just hope that my next chapters will be better ... And so they will!

So now, please review and tell me how bad this was!

Chapter 10: Arrival at Tarnag

In Arya's opinion, the days that followed could not have passed more slowly, although there was both a funeral and a coronation to attend. All she wanted to do now was get away from Farthen Dûr and start the journey to Ellesméra, since she knew how long that would take, and how little time they really had. So therefore, when she found out that Orik was going to accompany them as well, she could not help feeling quite frustrated, though she had nothing against the dwarf himself.

During Ajihad's funeral, Arya felt yet again how the bitter hopelessness rose inside her, threatening to possess both her mind and body. What did it help, she thought, tears streaming down her face as she watched Ajihad lying pale and still, if Nasuada became leader of the Varden? What will we be able to do?

She could hear voices speaking all around her, some expressing their grief and sympathy with Nasuada, some trying in vain to comfort each other with what seemed to Arya more like empty words than anything else. And others, raising their voices in anger, furious at how their leader had fallen. But Arya found no reason to take part in any of these random conversations, and simply stood with her head bent down, and her eyes fixed upon ajihad's body.

However, she did look up once, when Nasuada walked forwards to see her father for the last time. She made no efforts to hide her grief, but seemed even more determinate than ever before, and Arya could not help admiring her. Because, although it was so many years ago now, she would never forget her mother's expression when her father, king Evandar, had been buried. And, once again, it occurred to Arya how much she and Nasuada really did have in common, though the latter knew little of this yet.

Directly after the funeral, Nasuada's coronation would take place in the underground ampthitheatre, which the dwarves always used for this purpose. Arya considered it quite strange to hold a coronation right after a funeral, but she also knew how little time there really was.

And, as Jörmundur announced who would lead the Varden and the humans and dwarves kept on cheering for ten minutes, Arya could not help feeling awed. However, this was not the end of it. While feeling her whole body tensing, Arya watched as Eragon stepped forwards to, as he had promised, swear fealty to Nasuada.

Once he had finished, both the humans and the dwarves stared, and the anger among the members of the Council of Elders was clear. Eragon had undermined them, and they were not pleased about it. But Arya, who had been so angry when she first heard about his idea, had difficulties hiding a smile.

As a result of all this activity, Arya felt more like resting for a week when the time finally came for her, Eragon and Orik to begin their journey. She began the day by oversleeping, and awoke first when Orik knocked hard on her door, shouting:

"Are you coming or not?"

Arya got up and dressed, still half asleep, before opening the door. Orik's face was grim, as if he had spent quite a long time waiting outside her room, which she also supposed he had.

"I've got to go", he said as soon as his eyes fell upon Arya. "I will meet Eragon and ..."

He stopped there and surveyed Arya curiously, in a way that seemed quite unnatural for him.

"Has Hrothgar told you what he is planning?" the dwarf asked.

"If you mean that we shall stop in Tarnag instead of going straight to Du Weldenvarden ...", Arya began, but Orik shook his head impatiently, saying:

"No, no. I mean his other plan, the one concerning Eragon. Well, obviously you know nothing about it. Since Saphira promised to repare the Isidar Mithrim, Hrothgar offers to adopt Eragon into Dûrgrimst Ingeitum, giving him all the privileges any of the other members can have. If Eragon accepts, I will help him to swear the oath."

Repare the Isidar Mithrim? Being member of a dwarven clan? Arya felt her head swimming at the prospect of all this. If Eragon continues like this, she thought, he will soon have no freedom at all. But if he does not agree, that will be taken as an insolt. At least, that's how the elves would react, though since dwarves were so unlike elves, Arya was unsure how Hrothgar would see it. Nevertheless, it troubled her.

"I will be at the northern gate soon", she promised Orik, who hurried off as soon as he heard the words.

Half an hour had passed when Arya finally decided that it was time for her to join Eragon, Saphira and Orik. She had not known if it was convenient for her to watch as Eragon swore the oath. If that was what he had done. But now, she felt that there was no time left to wait.

As she walked through the corridors of Tronjheim, Arya soon found herself accompanied by Nasuada and Jörmundur. Although neither of them mentioned their destination, Arya knew that they had come to bid Eragon farewell. And she wondered if they knew what Eragon had probably done by now.

Orik, Eragon and Saphira were waiting for them as they arrived, Eragon holding the reins of a white horse which Arya assumed to be his own. As he saw them approach, he averted his eyes, clearly ashamed of himself. Arya thought she knew why, but decided to let Nasuada and Jörmundur speak instead of her.

"You accepted?" Nasuada asked in a surprisingly gentle tone, and as Eragon nodded, she continued: "I wondered if you would. Now, all three races have a hold on you. You are a member of one of the strongest dwarven clans, the elves will train and shape you, and you have sworn fealty to me - a human. Perhaps it is best that we share your loyalty."

With a look of surprise on his face, Eragon shook hands with Jörmundur, who said:

"Have a good trip, Eragon, and guard yourself well."

Then, when Arya found it impossible to stay any longer, just to exchange even more polite expressions, however important they might be, she said:

"Come!"

And she hurried ahead of the others, into the darkness of Farthen Dûr.

It would take them several days to get to Tarnag, even though the tunnels they used were the shortest way to get to the city from Farthen Dûr. Arya did not enjoy the journey, and she had a feeling that neither Eragon, nor Saphira did. But for Arya's part, it was also a question of fighting against troubled thoughts, as well as trying to ignore that terrible feeling of being surrounded by stone.

She had never, as far as she could remember, managed to visit Tarnag without starting to argue with one dwarven preast or another. But now, she knew that they must just pass through the city quickly, so that they could continue to Ellesméra. What she needed to do was simply keep quiet and follow the others, ignoring all those things which used to upset her.

Nevertheless, she knew how glad she would be when they left the dwarven city behind them and continued on their way.

They came out of the tunnel after two days, in the warm light of the newly risen sun. Eragon plagued Orik and Arya with questions all the way down to Tarnag, most of which Arya let Orik answer. She was too busy looking around, trying to get rid of the anxiety that filled her body.

Seven dwarven guards came out of the city, riding on Feldûnost, to guard Eragon and Saphira and guide them all into the city. Although, of course, both Orik and Arya knew the way perfectly well themselves.

As they entered the city, Arya saw the suspicious and sometimes even angry glances that the dwarves they passed threw at Eragon and Saphira. And she wondered if it had been that wise of Hrothgar to adopt Eragon into his clan. If the king wanted to stay popular among the people, maybe he should not have done it.

Arya's thoughts were interrupted as several dwarves, all with veils over their faces, rushed out in front of them, forcing the group to stop. It could easily be seen that they belonged to Az Sweldn rak Anhûin, and they looked furious.

The leader of the group before them began to shout about how he did not consider Eragon and Saphira welcome in Tarnag, after Az Sweldn rak Anhûin had almost been extinguished by Galbatorix and the Forsworn. Arya flet anger stirring within her when she heard this, but did as she had promised herself, and remained silent.

One of Eragon's dwarven guards had, however, interrupted the other dwarf, and the two of them were soon shouting at each other, seemingly oblivious to all the others watching. As they talked, Eragon leaned forwards to get a better view of what was going on, revealing his helmet with the symbol of Dûrgrimst Ingeitum. The dwarf froze. Then, slowly, he took a ring from his pocket, twined three hairs from his beard around it and threw it on the ground. Then, without another word, he and his dwarves turned and rode away.

Arya stared in shock at the ring lying on the pavement, and so did Orik and the seven other dwarves as well. They all knew what it meant. In that short time, Az Sweldn rak Anhûin had declared themselves Eragon's blood enemies. Arya knew, of course, how much they had against dragons, Riders and everything else that had to do with Galbatorix. But she had not thought that they would do a thing like this. Not when Eragon had spent so little time among the dwarves.

And how would this affect Hrothgar? Would he lose all the support Az Sweldn rak Anhûin had ever given him, however little it had been before? Of course, there were still eleven other clans which could support him, but she still supposed she had better ask someone about it. And also, she knew someone had to explain all this to Eragon, who clearly understood nothing of what had just happened.

They walked in silence into Ûndin's hall, where the clan chief sat together with Gannel, waiting for them. Ûndin greeted them all, before Orik showed him the ring he had picked up from the ground.

"Who gave this to you?" Ûndin asked in a shocked tone.

"It was Az Sweldn rak Anhûin", said Orik. "And it is not meant for me, but for Eragon."

Alarm spread among the dwarves immediately. Eragon was guided to a room by a servent, while Arya sat together with Orik, Ûndin and Gannel to discuss the happenings.

After Orik had, in short words, explained what had happened out in the street, Ûndin cursed and then said:

"I know Az Sweldn rak Anhûin would not be willing to help the new Rider, but I had not expected this."

"I do not think any of us had", Orik muttered. "But now, we must just try not to upset Az Sweldn rak Anhûin even more while we stay here."

"And try to leave as soon as we can", Arya added.

As she said this, she noticed the expression flashing across Ûndin's face in the fraction of a second, and she understood that he was offended, though he did not want to show it. And, once again, Arya had difficulties hiding her feeling of anger and confusion. The dwarves were so different, and she did not think she would ever manage to fully understand them.


	11. Down the river and further on

Hi again everyone!

First of all, sorry about my last chapter and thanks so much for the reviews! I was afraid I had lost the inspiration when I tried to write ch 10,, but now it has returned again!

So here is chapter 11. Maybe the title doesn't really fit, but I sort of decided it before I wrote the chapter ...

Chapter 11: Down the river and further on

Their stay in Tarnag became short, but full of apprehension. The news of Az Sweldn rak Anhûin's actions had passed around the entire city faster than Arya thought was possible, and soon all the dwarves seemed to be choosing sides. It was almost as if this was an open clan war, a thought which Arya knew Orik and Ûndin shared.

When they finally were ready to leave the city, the outrage among the dwarves had reached a peak. Stones were being thrown through the air, and Arya could see a cloud of

smoke rising in the distance. The shouts from the angry crowd could be heard clearly, as they drifted through the still air. If this went on for long, Arya realized, it would be hard for them to get away.

She caught sight of Eragon, sitting next to Saphira on the other side of the courtyard, and went over to sit beside him. He had spent the morning in Celbedeil together with Gannel, but his thoughts seemed not to be lingering on that visit now. Arya could not help feeling pleased at this. Educating the new Rider in the dwarvish religion was all very well, she thought. But still, she was glad that she'd been able to escort him away from the cathedral.

Looking around the courtyard for a topic of some kind, Arya said after a while:

"The dwarves fear that the crowd will make it difficult for us to leave."

"Saphira can always fly us out", said Eragon, seemingly convinced that his idea would work perfectly well.

"Snowfire as well?" Arya said, trying to be as gentle as she could when pointing out the flaws in his plan. "And Ûndin's guards? No, if we are prevented, we shall have to wait for the dwarve's outrage to subside."

Eragon sighed, then said:

"I wish now I had not accepted Hrothgar's offer."

"Oh yes!" Arya said. "I think, however, that you made the only viable choice. You are not to blame. The fault if any lies with Hrothgar, for making the offer in the first place."

They were silent. Arya raised her eyes to watch the swiftly darkening sky, wishing she was up there, flying with Saphira and Eragon.

After a while, Eragon asked the question Arya knew would come, sooner or later:

"Do you have any family in Du Weldenvarden?"

Arya hesitated, before giving him the first anser that occurred to her:

"None that I am close to."

He looked at her with surprised etched upon his face, and she felt that perhaps this had not been the wisest thing she could say.

"Why ... why is that?" Eragon asked in a somewhat hesitant tone, as if he was unsure whether or not she would answer.

"They disliked my choice to become the queen's ambassador", said Arya, thinking that she could tell him this at least. "It seemed inappropriate. When I ignored their objections and still had the Yawë tattooed on my shoulder, which indicates that I have devoted myself to the greater good of my race, my family refused to see me again."

"But that was over seventy years ago!" Eragon protested firmly.

Arya looked away, refusing to answer. Nor could she find anything else to tell him.

Talking about her family like this was still painful, but she had learnt by now to push away that feeling when she knew it was not needed. Eragon was not the first to ask her questions like these, but he was certainly one of the few humans who asked them out of concern, more than curiosity.

"Are there any other elves outside of Du Weldenvarden?" Eragon asked, before the pause in their conversation became awkwardly long.

"Three of us were sent forth from ellesméra", Arya told him, keeping her face hidden behind a veil of hair, so as to avoid meeting his eyes. "Fäolin and Glenwing always travelled with me when we transported Saphira's egg between Du Weldenvarden and Tronjheim. Only I survived Durza's ambush."

"What were they like?" Eragon asked.

Arya explained as much as she could about Glenwing, while fighting back the memories that were woken within her with every word she spoke. But when Eragon asked about Fäolin, she was silent. She could simply not think of anything to say that was not too emotional, even though she knew there were such things.

Arya was unsure whether or not Eragon understood her feelings, but he seemed to sense that he had better change the subject. Slowly, he said:

"Why do you dislike Gannel so much?"

His attempt to keep their conversation going was obvious, and Arya turned to look at him directly. As she did so, a wave of unexpected warmth flowed up inside her. It lasted only for a couple of secons, but during that time, she found her hand reaching out, almost against her will, to touch Eragon's cheek.

"That is a discussion for another time", Arya said, before withdrawing her hand and standing up, to walk slowly away across the courtyard.

When she glanced over her shoulder, she saw Eragon leaning back against Saphira's right foreleg, the surprise and confusion visible in his face.

And, as Arya stopped next to a group of dwarves, she realized how completely unknowing she had been of what she was doing, until it was too late to prevent the action. But even if she had been able to stop herself, she had an odd feeling that she would not have done so.

Hours later, Arya, Eragon, Saphira, Orik and their seven dwarven guards could finally, to Arya's immense relief, leave the city of Tarnag behind them. It had not been as difficult for them to get away as some of the dwarves had feared, but the very atmosphere in the city had done nothing but make them all irritated and restless. So Arya was glad when they were moving again.

They continued the journey down Az Ragni on rafts. It was a calm and pleasant way to travel, with only the splashing of water, the creaking of wood and ropes and the occasional murmering of voices to be heard. Arya spent most of the day sitting on the edge of the raft, watching the mountains glide past on both sides, letting all she heard and saw calm her. However, she could not avoid noticing how Ûndin's guards kept throwing her furtive glances, when they thought she was not looking. And she thought she knew their reason too.

The anxiety and the distress Arya had experienced in Tarnag had made her break her silent promise not to argue with any of the preasts from Celbedeil. It had been when she came to escort Eragon back from the cathedral, and Gannel had, while smiling in his innocent way, explained why it was so important that eragon understood the religion of the dwarves. It had not, of course, been Arya's intention to lose her temper like she had done, but she had, once again, been unable to hold her angry words back. The only good thing she could say about their discussion now was that it had been short. What she did not understand, however, was how the news of it had managed to reach the other dwarves so quickly. It might, of course, have something to do with the fact that Gannel was no ordinary preast, but a clan chief as well, which also made Arya's outbreak towards him feel even worse to think about.

No, Arya told herself, shaking her head, as if that would push all her thoughts aside. Now when we have left Tarnag far behind us, I shall not think about it. I have enough trouble without going through all my arguments with Gannel over and over again.

Darkness soon descended over them, causing the dwarves to light several of the red lanterns they had brought with them. Arya and Eragon were standing side by side on the raft, watching all that was going on around them, but paying no particular attention to any of it.

After a few minutes, Eragon asked, pointing at the lanterns:

"Do you know how these are made?"

"It is a spell that we gave the dwarves long ago", Arya replied, turning her eyes up towards the light of the nearest Erisdar.

Eragon suddenly looked at her directly, with a thoughtful expression that was very similar to how several younger elves looked.

"Could you teach me more magic?" he asked.

Almost wishing she could give him a different answer, Arya said:

"It is not my place. A teacher is waiting for you."

"Then tell me this at least. What does the name of my sword mean?"

"Misery is your sword", she answered without hesitation, surprised that no one had told him this before. "And so it was until you wielded it."

Eragon looked at his sword, clearly uncomfortable. It cannot be a pleasant experience to suddenly learn that the name of your weapon is Misery, thought arya. But she could find no comforting words to say.

Meanwhile, Saphira had landed in the water, a short distance away from their raft, her eyes falling at once upon Eragon and arya. Eragon slipped down into the water immediately, swam out to Saphira and climbed onto her back. Arya watched from the raft as Saphira rose from the water and then flew swiftly up towards the setting sun. She had been intending to tell Eragon that it was not a good idea to fly around now. Especially not at night. But her words were lost as she saw how much both dragon and Rider enjoyed their flight.

The three figures came rising up from the distant Beor Mountains just as Eragon and Saphira stopped in mid-air above the ship, and Arya recognized them at once for Fanghur. They were smaller than Saphira, but when three of them came at once like this, she knew that it would not be the easiest thing in the world for Saphira to beat them.

Together with the dwarves, Arya watched, half in alarm, half in amazement, as Saphira darted between, below and above the three Fanghur, slashing at them and making them retreat. If the shimmering, blue dragon meant to kill the creatures attacking her, it was hard to tell. Arya wanted to cry out to Saphira and Eragon not to do that, because Fanghur were rare enough already. But she knew that if the creatures had already attacked the minds of both Eragon and Saphira, which she reckoned they had, not even mental words would be able to reach them.

The struggle became short, but intense, and the final result was a clear victory for Saphira, as the three Fanghur fled back the way they had come. Eragon's triumph was clear as he swam back to the raft, but so was his tiredness as well. Arya knew that in Brom's opinion, this fight had been a sheer waste of strength. However, she herself could not help appreciating what she had just witnessed, and she wondered if this was how it looked when two wild dragons met in a battle. Well, probably, she would never be able to find out.

"Are you hurt?" asked Orik as he helped Eragon back onto the raft.

"No", said Eragon, still beaming. "Were they another race unique to the Beors?"

"We call them Fanghur", said Orik.

Then, he explained about the creatures, and about how they used their minds to immobilize their prey when they hunted. This seemed to particularly interest Saphira, and Arya knew her well enough by now to suspect that she was probably intending to test this herself.

Walking to the edge of the raft, Arya said:

"I'm glad you did not kill them. Fanghur are so rare, that those three would have been sorely missed."

"They still manage to eat enough of our herds", called one of the dwarves, as he came out of the cabin and glanced irritably up at the sky. "Do not fly any more while we are in the Beors, Shadeslayer! It's difficult enough to keep you alive as it is."

"We'll stay on the ground until we reach the plain", Eragon promised, although he seemed not to like the idea very much.

They stopped soon afterwards, and the dwarves moored the rafts to some aspens growing along the river, before starting to make themselves ready for the night. When they were finished and had eaten their meal, Arya stood at the edge of their camp to keep watch. The day had given her much to think about, and she knew there was still so much to come. She had not had time to think much about where they were going. But now, in the silence and darkness of the night, the questions began to return to her. What was going to happen once she reached Ellesméra? What would happen between her and her mother? Would she be accepted into Ellesméra again after having been banished from the queen's presence for seventy years? And, finally, how would the news of her position affect Eragon and Saphira? She had wondered it before, but the time when they'd reach Ellesméra had seemed too far away then to be considered. Now it was much closer than she had believed, and nervousness began to truly possess her mind.


	12. Concern

Hmm. Another chapter done. It's sometimes even hard to believe that this is the 12th chapter ...

Well, since I don't know what else to tell you about this one ... here it comes!

Chapter 12: Concern

"Arya", Eragon said the next morning, when they had just resumed their journey.

"Yes?" said Arya, tearing her eyes away from the glittering river and the steadily rising sun.

The morning was calm and warm, just like the previous day. Everyone, especially the dwarves, seemed much more cheerful now when there was so much distance between them and Tarnag. The dwarves were even singing as they did their work.

"I had a ... vision during my sleep."

Eragon's words caused Arya's attention to suddenly snap towards him, and she asked:

"What sort of vision?"

"Well, it was a ... a plain, and there was a battle going on. A man lay on the ground, and another man stood over him, pointing at him. That was all. I know that it sounds less important than it really felt."

Arya did not immediately answer. A memory, which had been stirring just below the surface of her consciousness for a long time now, finally managed to gain her full attention. It was Eragon, telling her about how he'd had visions of her in his dreams before they met. He had even used the same word then as he did now. Vision.

"If it's scrying, then ...", Eragon began, forcing Arya's mind to return to the present, even though she would have liked to let her thoughts explore this subject for much longer.

"It isn't scrying", she said slowly, deciding to give him the only possible explanation she had managed to think of. "I thought for a long time about how you saw me imprisoned in Gil'ead, and I believe that as I lay unconscious, my spirit was searching for help, wherever I might find it."

"But why me?"

Pointing at Saphira, who was gliding gracefully through the water, Arya said:

"I grew accustomed to Saphira's presence during the fifteen years I guarded her egg. I was reaching out for anything that felt familiar, when I touched your dreams."

He looked at her in disbelief, then asked:

"Are you really strong enough to contact someone in Teirm from Gil'ead? Especially when you were unconscious!"

It was hard for Arya to keep from smiling as she replied:

"I could stand by the very gates of Vroengard and still speak with you as clearly as I do now."

They sat talking for a long time, with words exploring the possibilities of magic, many of which had not yet been tested. Arya told Eragon what he wanted to know, though her thoughts were, yet again, lingering on something else. Despite her definite assurance that it had been Saphira's mind she reached in Gil'ead, all this was still so strange. What did it mean that she knew Saphira so well? And did it mean that Eragon knew her much beter than she had ever suspected? If that was the case, which parts of her did he know?

The sheer amount of questions that had been woken within her left Arya unsettled, and she spent the rest of the day in almost complete silence, preferring to keep her thoughts to herself. However, she did notice that Saphira's gaze seemed to linger on her longer than it used to, though the dragon never made any attempt to communicate with her.

They had reached the plain by now, and since there were no Fanghur here, Eragon and Saphira could finally fly as much as they liked. And so they did, soaring over the heads of Arya and the dwarves with apparent delight.

However, Eragon's delight was to be extinguished once the evening came. They had just settled for the night, when he unsheathed Zar'roc, evidently intending to train. The red sword gleamed in his hands as he performed one move after another, flowing between them with ease. Soon, he seemed completely absorbed by what he was doing, as if there were real enemies for him to fight. His movements impressed Arya. Although she knew an elf would easily have defeated him, Eragon was still a formidable opponent.

It happened just as Eragon attempted to throw the sword from one hand to the other. With a sudden cry of pain, he collapsed, to lie writhing on the ground. Saphira growled in desperation and pain, and Arya tried to rush over to Eragon. But the dwarves were in the way, talking in loud and alarmed voices.

"What's happening?"

"There isn't anyone ... attacking him, is there? With magic, I mean."

"Move aside!" Arya called over all the other voices. "Let me pass!"

Noticing how little effect her words had on the dwarves, Arya simply pushed them aside, before bending to lift Eragon into her arms. She then rushed over to his tent, Saphira following close behind, and placed Eragon on the ground inside it. After having wrapped a blanket tightly around him, Arya could do nothing but wait for him to recover. She knew that it was the scar on his back which hurt him like this, but could not think of any way to alleviate his pain.

Half an hour dragged by, and it was one of the longest half hours Arya had ever spent. Saphira was sticking her head into the tent, her mind constantly on Eragon. Arya was feeling helpless, and hating herself for it. There must be something she could do!

When Eragon finally opened his eyes, his face was pale and he was trembling. He spoke briefly to Saphira, and then turned his gaze towards Arya. The fear in his eyes was clear, but there was something else there as well. Was it ... shame? Was he ashamed of himself for this? Yes, thought Arya. I would be.

"How can I train?" Eragon whispered. "How can I fight or use magic?"

"You can sit and watch", said Arya, though she knew how empty her words must seem. "You can listen. You can read. And you can learn."

"But how did the Shade do this to me?"

"I have no answers, Eragon", Arya murmered. "I am neither the wisest, nor the strongest elf. We all do our best. Perhaps time will heal your wound."

His helplessness frightened Arya, though she struggled not to show that. If the new Rider was incapable of fighting, of doing anything strenuous, how would he be able to complete his task? Oromis will know, she told herself. He has been through this himself. He knows what to do. But the thought gave her no comfort.

Gently putting her hand on Eragon's brow, Arya whispered the first words that occurred to her:

"Sé mor'ranr ono finna."

And then, she stood and walked slowly out of his tent, leaving him and Saphira alone.

The night became restless. Since Arya was keeping watch, she could not afford to close her eyes, or let her thoughts wander. But she was still unable to prevent Eragon's question from repeating itself over and over again in her mind. How had Durza managed to do that to him? What kind of dark magic had he used? And how would Eragon ever be healed?

Finally, as morning neared, Arya left the duty of keeping watch to Orik and walked silently away from the camp. The dwarves shot her cureous looks as she left, but made no sign of preventing her.

On a low hill, standing alone with her gaze turned towards the sky, was Saphira. Arya joined her without thinking, and the two of them stood in complete silence, as the first light of the new day slowly spread across the sky. It was not long before Eragon came to stand on Saphira's other side, seemingly much stronger and more cheerful than he had been yesterday.

But cheerful, thought Arya, was not the right word. The expression dominating his face now was awe, which was exactly what she herself felt as well. To be standing here, right next to a dragon and her Rider, in the light of the now rising sun, felt so ... perfect. Then, Eragon's eyes turned towards her, and it felt as if a strange current of something flowed between them. It was almost like understanding. But what it was that both of them understood, arya had no idea.

Eventually, the group reached the place where Az Ragni and Edda River met, and where the dwarven outpost Hedarth lay. There, they left the rafts. From here, they were going to ride, Eragon on Snowfire and the dwarves on donkeys. However, Arya refused to follow their example, but preferred to run. During their time on the river, she had had little opportunities to move, to really do something strenuous, which she thought was exactly what she needed to push away all her thoughts.

However, not even running managed to dispel her growing nervousness. Within only a few days' time, she would be returning to her people, and stay with them for longer than she had done in seventy years. And she would see her mother again, and either apologize, or ... what? what would happen if the queen had not at all changed her mind? Would she even allow Arya to leave the forest and return to the Varden? And what was she going to tell her mother from her time in Gil'ead? What did queen Islanzadí want to know?

When the vast forest of Du Weldenvarden finally came into view ahead of them, Arya was slightly surprised to find that the joy she had been expecting did not come. All she thought of as they settled for the night was, once again, Eragon. She had realized how little of the elven traditions he really knew, and how much he needed to learn before they reached the forest. Which they would be doing tomorrow.

So, just as Eragon was about to go into his tent, Arya reached out her mind towards him and said:

- Follow me, as silently as you can.

They left the tents and went as far away as Arya thought was needed to escape the dwarves' earshot. Then, Arya sat down on the ground and wrapped her arms around her knees, wondering how to begin her lesson. Eragon sat opposite her, evidently without any idea of what she was going to tell him.

Finally, she said:

"There are things you need to know before we enter Du Weldenvarden, so that you do not shame yourself or me through your ignorance."

"Such as?" he asked, still so unknowing.

"During my years as the queen's ambassador", Arya said, "I observed that humans and dwarves are very like each other. So like in fact that more than one human have been able to live among the dwarves, without any problems. Your acceptance into Dûrgrimst Ingeitum is an example of this. However, elves are not like other races."

"You speak as though you weren't one", said Eragon, clearly repeating what Arya herself had said when in Tronjheim.

"I have lived with the Varden for enough time by now to become accustomed to the traditions among humans and dwarves", said Arya.

"But ...", Eragon began. "Do you mean that elves don't have the same emotions as humans and dwarves?"

His question surprised Arya, who realized that their conversation was turning in a completely wrong direction. This was not at all how she had been intending to tell him what he needed to know, and the little amount of time they had made her brief and irritated.

After having let out a long sigh, Arya had managed to calm herself enough to explain to both Eragon and Saphira about the elven traditions. She taught them the greeting phrases and gestures, and told them how to know when they were supposed to speak first and when they were not. She also told them all the different titles that existed, and saw Eragon's eyes widen. It was clear that he had not at all expected this.

When she finally thought he knew as much as he needed, Arya turned to go. But Eragon called after her:

"Wait!"

Turning back, she saw him watching her intently, seeming to try and find a way to voice his thoughts. She waited silently, until he finally spoke.

"Are you ... well, Arya?" he asked. "You've seemed distracted and out of sorts ever since we left Hedarth."

His words caused Arya's body to stiffen, as she noticed how much concern that question contained. And she knew that he must not go on like this in Ellesméra. Especially not once he knew about her status. But yet, a small part of her wanted him to go on, wanted to know that someone cared for her like this.

Arya's confusion turned into anger, and before she had time to think, she said in an icy tone:

"When we are in Du Weldenvarden, I expect that you will not speak to me in such a familiar way, unless you wish to cause affront."

And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving him standing there with a bewildered look on his face.

Oh, this was not what I meant to say! thought Arya angrily as she ran back towards the camp. I am doing all this so wrong! Now Eragon believes I'm angry with him, but I am not! I am just confused and frightened, but I cannot tell him that!

She was so concentrated on her own thoughts, she did not even notice Eragon coming until he was standing right before her, blocking her way. She stared at him, still unwilling to show him her feelings.

"Arya Svit-Kona", said Eragon, using the title she had just taught him. "I spoke badly, and for that I beg your pardon. Saphira and I were concerned for your welfare. After all you've done for us, it seemed the least we could do was offer our help in return, if you need it."

He fell silent there, waiting for her reply. And Arya could simply not continue to be angry with him because of his question. When she spoke again, her voice had softened.

"Your concern is appreciated", she said. "And I too spoke badly.

She looked down, as another wave of that strange, warm sensation began to stir inside her. Maybe, she thought. Maybe I can tell Eragon what he wants to know, after all.

And, still not meeting his eyes, Arya said:

"You ask what troubles me, Eragon. Do you really wish to know?"

When he did not move, she went on, more softly still:

"Then I shall tell you. I am afraid."


	13. Into the Guarding Forest

Ah! Here's yet another chapter. I must say that this one was the easiest one to write so far, because I certainly love Du Weldenvarden ...

So, hopefully you too will enjoy it.

Chapter 13: Into the Guarding Forest

The tall trees were standing like guardians on either side of the path, their leaves rustling pleasantly as a faint breeze rushed through them. The air was cool and full of the mild scent from hundreds of flowers, now opening themselves in the gathering dusk.

It was a warm and beautiful spring night, but Arya was only concentrated on where they were going, alert for any sign of elves nearby. Eragon, she noticed, was staring around with wide eyes, exactly like Saphira, and both of them seemed just as overwhelmed by all they saw. The dwarves on the other hand were muttering glumly among each other, glancing in apparent dislike at the huge mass of trees, extending in every direction as far as they could see.

They had come out on a small meadow when Arya finally managed to sense the presence of four other elves, hiding among the trees just beyond their vision. She knew that they were here to guard Ceris, and she knew that she needed their help now.

"Stop here!" arya whispered to the others, before stepping forwards until she stood alone in the middle of the meadow.

But now, what was she going to do? Suddenly, her throat felt dry, and different words and sentences were racing through her mind. She had not planned how to do this, and it had gone so long since her last real visit to the forest, that she felt alarmingly uncertain. During the past days, she had been so busy with her other questions, that she had completely forgotten to think of what was going to happen once they entered Du Weldenvarden.

Finally, she took a deep breath and called out:

"Come forth, my brethren! You have nothing to fear. It is I, Arya of Ellesméra. My companions are friends and allies. They mean us no harm."

There was a pause, before a voice Arya did not recognize, but which belonged to an elf, asked:

"You intend to come back?"

"I do", Arya replied.

The leaves of the trees nearest them rustled, and then four elves emerged, two walking on the ground and two standing on branches above them. As their eyes fell upon Arya, they jumped down, to form a circle around her. They danced and sang happily, as if they had been waiting for her return for a long time. A faint smile touched Arya's lips as she watched, though she knew no one else had seen that.

Suddenly, Saphira came flying over the river beside them, to land next to Eragon on the grass. The elves stopped laughing immediately, pointing their weapons at the dragon and shouting in alarm.

"Do not be afraid!" said Arya quickly. "Saphira means us no harm. She is the dragon from the egg I guarded, and that is her Rider."

She pointed at Eragon, who at the same time held out his hand wearing the Gedwëy Ignasia, saying:

"Eka aí fricai un Shur'tugal."

It was exactly the same words he had said to Arya when he first contacted her, the words which had finally made her stop attacking him and let him into her mind. The words which had, in a strange kind of way, saved her life.

Touching his lips, like Arya had taught him yesterday, Eragon went on:

"Atra esterní ono thelduin."

With smiles spreading across their faces once again, the elves repeated the gesture, bowed to Saphira and answered:

"Atra du evarínya ono varda."

Then, as they turned to look at the dwarves, they started laughing, something which Arya saw made the dwarves look even less comfortable than before.

The elves turned to walk back into the depths of the forest, calling:

"Come! Come!"

So, in the darkness now descending over the entire world, Arya and her companions started walking, deeper and deeper into what Arya knew was her real home.

In the profound darkness below the canopy of leaves, Eragon and the dwarves had difficulties finding their way, and the elves had to shout to them where to go more than once. Arya was simply following, silent as usual, but with unusually few thoughts in her mind.

It felt so strange, so unnatural, to be back here after all those years, knowing that she would stay for such a long time. The forest around her was so much ... alive, with the sounds of rustling leaves, birds singing, and the murmering voices of the elves walking ahead of them. All of it belonged to a dream, a dream which Arya had been recalling, but never allowed herself to think of properly. So much else had been going on, and thinking of old memories had not seemed like the wisest thing she could do.

The group came to a halt in front of three huts, standing around a large oak, where a fire was spreading its warm and welcoming light through the velvety darkness. They all sat down around the fire, and the elves brought them food. There were fruits and vegetables of all kinds, but Arya could see how Eragon looked around, and she understood that he was wondering why no meat was being served.

Orik asked for the elves' names, and one of them, with dark hair falling down his back, said:

"I am Lifaen of House Rílvenar, and my fellows are Edurna, Celdin and Narí."

"Oh!" said Orik.

Arya ate with relish, feeling as though she had not had a proper meal since she left Du Weldenvarden. When she was finished, she simply stared into the flickering firelight, listening to the elves as they talked, laughed and sang. A sensation of satisfaction had risen within her as soon as they'd reached the huts, followed by a tiredness she had not experienced since leaving Farthen Dûr. It felt as though she, now when she had managed to get them all safely to the forest, finally had allowed all the tiredness to catch up with her. For a moment, she had difficulties keeping her eyes open.

Narí had begun to sing, his voice floating through the air and waking Arya's senses. It had gone so long since she heard an elf sing like that, she found herself almost entranced by every tone. Her body relaxed, and she let the sound wash over her, like a cool wave of water.

Once the elf had finished, Eragon said:

"That was beautiful, Narí-Vodhr."

Narí thanked him, before one of the dwarves said:

"Very pretty, master elf. However, there are matters more serious than singing that we must attend to. Are we to follow Eragon further?"

"No", said Arya quickly, knowing that so many dwarves entering Du Weldenvarden would mean nothing but trouble. "You may return home in the morning. We will assure that Eragon reaches Ellesméra."

The dwarf bent his head, saying:

"Then our task is complete."

Much later, when Eragon and the dwarves had gone to bed, and the fire was out, Arya and the four other elves went into one of the huts to talk. Arya knew that Lifaen, Narí, Edurna and Celdin must know some of what had happened to her since Durza's ambush, though she must of course not give them all the details. Nor had she got any wish to do that. Not even, though she knew it was necessary, when she told her mother about it.

Arya spoke for a long time, and when she had finished, silence reigned in the hut. all that could be heard were the sounds from outside. The elves looked at Arya with the same inscrutable expression she always wore among humans and dwarves. It was impossible for her to see what they thought, though she knew it was a certain lot.

Arya herself felt as though her mind had gone numb. Telling this story in the Ancient Language had been much harder, because the power in every word she spoke had made it all feel so alive. She hoped her face did not reveal her feelings, but was not quite as sure about that as usual.

When Edurna finally spoke, his voice was louder than he had probably intended it to.

"It is good that you have returned, Arya Dröttningu. Islanzadí was sorely wounded by grief when you were captured and the egg was stolen. And by Urgals, no less. She was, and is, sick at heart."

"Husch, Edurna!" whispered Celdin. "Husch! Dwarves are small, but they have sharp ears, and I am sure these will report to Hrothgar."

"Perhaps", said arya, her voice dropping. "And that is one reason why I cannot tell you more until the queen has heard what I've got to say. Our most important task for the moment is to get Eragon and Saphira safely to Ellesméra, so that they can complete their training."

"Ah yes", said Lifaen. "Oromis-elda and Glaedr Bjartskular have been waiting for the new Rider and his dragon. It seems as though they knew what happened before you came."

His words silenced Arya for a long time. She knew of course that Oromis had got a certain amount of information from her that night when he had contacted her. But now it occurred to her that maybe he had spoken to Eragon as well. But why, in that case? Why had Oromis chosen to reveal his existence to Eragon even before he reached Du Weldenvarden, if that was what he had done? And if not, from where had he got his information? Had he, without Arya's knowledge, gone through her mind another time? But no, she was sure she would have felt that. So what did this mean?

Raising her eyes, Arya found that the four elves were all watching her, as if trying to work out what she was thinking. She thought for a moment of asking them about Oromis, but dismissed the thought just as it occurred. No, this was something she had to work out herself. Or else, if she found it was necessary, ask Oromis.

"It is late", Arya said softly, and without letting her tone reveal any of the questions Lifaen's words had woken within her. "And we must waste no time tomorrow. So let us go to bed, and we can talk more another time."

The elves made no objections as she stood and left them, but she could sense their eyes following her all the while.

Despite her earlier tiredness, it was a long time before Arya could make herself stop turning restlessly in bed, and instead close her eyes. Her talk with the elves seemed to have washed away the satisfaction which had been possessing her mind when they first entered the forest, and made her old doubts and worries rise again. Edurna's observation concerning queen Islanzadí seemed to have stuck in her mind. It had forced Arya to revalue her mother yet again, from the cold woman who had not wanted to see her at all, to the terrified mother she had now turned out to be.

Arya took a long, deep breath to try and push away thee wave of confusion and irritation that threatened to overcome her, and concentrated instead on the quiet spring night now surrounding her. And soon, she had managed to glide away into her waking dreams, which were full of memories from her life in Ellesméra.

The next day dawned just as warm and bright as the previous ones. Arya followed Lifaen and Narí down to the banks of the Edda River, where two canoes lay floating in the water. Stepping into one of them, she stowed her few things under the thwart, then sat down to wait as Eragon and Orik boarded the other.

Eragon was examining the canoe with amazement, before he asked Narí:

"Are all your boats made this way?"

"All except the very largest", Narí answered. "For those, we sing the finest cedar and oak into shape."

When they had all got into their boats, Arya looked up at Edurna and Celdin, standing on the river bank, and said:

"Guard this way, so that none may follow, and tell no one of our presence. The queen must be the first to know. I will send reinforcements as soon as we reach Sílthrim."

"Arya Dröttningu", they said, to which she answered:

"May the stars watch over you."

Then, using a long pole each, Narí and Lifaen started propelling the boats up the river. Their journey through the vast and always guarding forest had begun.


	14. Mysteries and misgivings

Hello everyone!

So now, finally, after more than a week, I can publish another chapter. This one might be a bit rushed towards the end, maybe ...

I would also like to thank everyone who has reviewed and/or has favorited my story/stories! It's so lovely to know that people like my writing ...

Well, now, let's get on to the story again! This time, I've got a little question: I've always thought that Arya and Durza were in Du Weldenvarden when he attacked her. I don't even know why I've got that idea. And now I've written about that in the chapter. But if it isn't so, please tell me in your reviews and I'll fix it.

And here is:

Chapter 14: Mysteries and misgivings

The following days felt like a warm dream, full of sunlight, talking and laughing, and the sound of splashing water and whispering leaves. Their canoes floated through vaults of dark, green leaves, through which sunlight filtered occasionally, but where they were most often left in cool shadow. But even then, the air was so warm and mild, that they never began to shiver. Not even when they had been sitting still in the canoes for several hours.

Everything would have been perfect, if it had not been for Arya's increasing uncertainty. During her first evening with the elves, that feeling of finally returning home had been dominating her body and mind, and she had been too tired to notice the differences between herself and the other elves. But now, as she spent more and more time together with them, she began to truly realize what it meant that she had been gone from her own people for such a long time.

Both humans and dwarves were so forthright, and they said exactly what they wanted immediately, where as elves were in many ways completely the opposite. Lifaen and Narí could say one thing, but mean so much else, meanings which Arya found it difficult to understand. Sometimes, they even escaped her completely. And when she was to speak the Ancient Language herself, her words seemed brief and insufficient by comparison. So she usually ended up simply listening as Lifaen and Narí talked. Of course, they did not use the Ancient Language very often, out of respect for Orik and Eragon, but it still troubled her.

Arya had also begun to notice how calm and relaxed the others seemed to have become once they had entered the forest. It was as if they thought they were safe now, but she did not. All the time, a feeling of hurry continued to plague her, together with a sensation that she was being watched, that something was waiting for her just out of sight. The forest was so full of mysterious sounds and shapes, things that could emerge out of a thicket of trees at any moment. There were animals here that only existed because of the magic permeating the earth, the water and the air. But in Arya's opinion, that was not all.

When Durza had ambushed her, they had been in Du Weldenvarden, quite near the elven city Osilon. And now it occurred to her that it should not have been possible for the Shade to enter the forest, even less burn it like he had done. How he had done it was a mystery to her as well as to the other elves, and that was yet another reason why she felt so vigilant and unsettled.

And the forest was so full of memories! Everywhere she looked, her eyes fell upon something which reminded her so painfully of the days she had spent together with Fäolin, exploring the forest and all of its mysteries. And now, all that was gone, due to ... what? How had Durza managed to do it?

Arya blinked hard and tore her mind away from these desperate and miserable thoughts, only to find Eragon watching her from the other canoe. His face contained just as much concern as he had shown before, but he seemed much more unwilling to let anyone know about it than he had done outside of Du Weldenvarden. At least, that was something.

As they settled for the night, a rustling sound came drifting through the air towards them. Eragon jumped up immediately, drawing Zar'roc, and walked towards the sound. Arya was about to prevent him, but changed her mind and followed, so silently he was unable to hear her.

The sorce of the commotion was not hard to find. A gerfolcon, lying on a bed of branches on the opposite side of a small ravine. Its wing was broken, and even from this distance, Arya was able to see that it was beyond her ability to heal it. Probably beyond everyone's ability.

So, with a feeling of sadness deep within her, Arya raised her bow and shot. Her arrow flew across the ravine and hit the bird right in the heart, killing it immediately and with as little pain as possible.

With an effort, Arya tore her eyes away from the sight, to find that Eragon was watching her, as if expecting something of her.

"Why?" he asked when she did not move or speak.

"It was too injured for me to heal", said Arya, "and would have died tonight or tomorrow. Such is the nature of things. I saved it hours of suffering."

Without a word, Saphira touched Arya on the shoulder, as if her action had pleased the dragon. But although she tried hard, she could not work out in what way.

Eragon and Orik fell asleep soon afterwards, but Arya was unable to make her body relax enough to follow their example. The episode with the gerfalcon had reminded her of something she had been trying hard not to think about. Eragon seemed to have an ability to get into trouble, even when he tried not to. And, considering all the magic there was in Du Weldenvarden, Arya knew that this ability was not at all convenient.

She turned restlessly from side to side, her gaze darting around the clearing, until it finally fell upon Lifaen and Narí. The two elves were, like Arya, awake and alert. Where they stood by the trees, they were almost invisible, and their voices were no more than a faint whisper, too low for humans and dwarves to hear.

As Arya joined them, she noticed that both Lifaen and Narí glanced at her, as if they'd just been about to say something but then had thought better of it. Trying her best to ignore this, she stared up at the leaves of the trees around them, only to jump as the snapping sound of a twig breaking cut through the silence.

"Do you think", Arya began finally, wondering if she was formulating her question right, "that Eragon and Orik will cause any kind of ... trouble?"

"Well ...", Lifaen began, turning his eyes away from the constellations above their heads. "Both a dragon, a new Rider and a dwarf in the forest after so long ... and you returning with them ... that will undoubtedly raise quite a lot of questions, but I do not reckon ..."

"You misunderstand me", said Arya. "I expressed myself carelessly. What I mean is ... I have noticed that Eragon has an ability to ..."

She broke off there, wondering if it would be right of her to tell Lifaen and Narí what she thought of Eragon. But on the other hand, if she did not, she might not get the answer she wanted until they reached Ellesméra, and then it would be too late.

"Du Weldenvarden is so full of magic", Arya said finally. "And I am not sure how it will affect Eragon and Saphira."

"Probably, they will not notice much of it until we reach Ellesméra", Narí said. "They might sense it, and they certainly know that this is not an ordinary forest, but they cannot feel it as clearly as we can."

"Nevertheless", Lifaen added, "we shall keep watch."

"So will I", Arya said.

And with that, she turned and wandered away a few meetres into the wild, never sleeping forest. She looked around at the trees, the ground, the sky, trying to let the sight of all that soothe her. But, almost like she had expected, it did not work as intended. If only the morning would come, so that they could move on!

And eventually, as always, it did. The air grew damp, the birds started filling the forest with all their different melodies, and the first light of dawn began to filter into the sky above them. Arya returned to the camp, to find Eragon already awake. He usually got up much later than this. Maybe he even feels the same as I do, she thought, but dismissed that idea a moment after it had occurred.

Meanwhile, Lifaen and Narí jumped down from a tall pine tree, where they had been standing to keep watch, and explained to Eragon why they had been awake all night. Arya could see Eragon's puzzled expression, and was not surprised when he a moment later asked:

"For what?"

Arya explained her reasons as well as she could. But before she had even finished, Eragon gave a small gasp and pulled the necklace Gannel had given him out of his tunic. Arya knew that the little hammer on it could prevent anyone from scrying Eragon, and she understood immediately that someone was just trying to do so. Fear struck her as she watched Saphira rush to Eragon's side. If it is Galbatorix, she thought, will he try me next? There had been so much else going on, that she had forgotten all about putting up wards around herself and Orik to prevent people from scrying them. Now, she realized what a horrible mistake that had been. If Galbatorix scried her, he would be able to see Eragon and Saphira too.

An endless moment passed, before Eragon tucked the hammer back under his tunic and said in a shaky voice:

"Someone just tried to scry me."

A storm of new thoughts had risen within Arya, but she had no wish to share them with anyone. So all she said was:

"That makes it even more important that we reach Ellesméra quickly, so your training can resume. Events in Alagaësia move apace, and I fear you won't have enough time for your studies."

Eragon looked as though he wanted to say something in return, but they got no more time to discuss the matter.

When they had been paddling up the river for an hour or so, they reached a roaring waterfall, down which no one could travel. They were already so close to it, that Arya could feel cool water spraying her face as she stepped out of her canoe. They would have to walk around the waterfall along a narrow path to their left.

Saphira came swimming ashore, offering to carry their packs. Arya would have been grateful for the offer, but Lifaen refused, claiming that it would dishonor both Saphira and her Rider. With increasing amusement, Arya watched as Saphira reached past Lifaen and gripped their packs anyway, launching herself skywards and calling:

- Catch me if you can!

As she heard those words, Arya burst into a sudden laughter, and for a brief moment, it felt as though all her troubles were washed away. It was not so much Saphira's comment, she realized, as the fact that she had not been laughing like this in a very long time.

"You have much to learn", she said to Lifaen once she had collected herself somewhat, "if you try to tell a dragon what she may or may not do."

"But the dishonour?" Lifaen protested.

"It is no dishonor if Saphira does it of her free will", Arya assured him, before bending down to lift up her canoe together with Narí. "Now, let us go, before we waste any more time!"

Presently, the group had passed the waterfalls and could resume their journey again. However, Arya had realized that as soon as they reached Ardwen Lake, they would be very likely to meet a lot of other elves, which meant that Saphira must keep hidden. The arrival of a new Rider was such a great change, she did not want to reveal it to anyone before Islanzadí was informed. Although she explained all this to Eragon and Saphira, she could tell that neither of them was happy about their separation.

The day continued without any more happenings, and dusk began descending over the forest once more. By now, they were near Sílthrim, one of the largest cities in Du Weldenvarden, and they had indeed seen a certain lot of elves. Arya had greeted them, but avoided meeting anyone's eyes directly. She was unwilling to let too many of the elves know that she had returned.

And now, she sat and stared into the fire's flickering light, letting the constant motion of the flames absorb her completely, and ignoring everything that went on around her. She was just thinking that she might be able to drift away into her waking dreams after all, when she heard a sound that made her sit up straight, feeling her whole body tense.

It was a voice, a woman's voice, that came drifting through the air from the city of Sílthrim. The melody sung in this elven voice reached right into Arya's heart, making her want to jump up and run to whoever was singing. However, she resisted, due to a sudden thought that had flashed through her mind in the fraction of a second. This was Dagshelgr, one of the elves' feasts, used to give the trees and plants the strength they needed to grow like they did now. But it was also, she knew, dangerous to both Eragon and Orik, who did not possess the power to resist it, as the elves did.

More voices joined the first, until the forest itself was resounding with the melody. Arya saw how Eragon, as if entranced, stood up and took a few steps away from the camp. His face wore an expression of fear and pleasure mingled, and he seemed completely unaware of what he was doing. and meanwhile, Orik was trying to escape in the other direction, held back however by Lifaen and Narí.

Springing to her feet, Arya gripped Eragon's arm and called, although she knew it was pointless:

"Eragon, clear your mind!"

He turned towards her, but his eyes were unfocused and he did not seem to understand her words. He must stop hearing the music, thought Arya.

So, while doing her best to ignore the music, she performed a spell that would protect both Eragon and Orik from the sound. The reaction was immediate. Eragon blinked, as though waking out of a strange dream. Orik stopped fighting, and Lifaen and Narí stepped away from him.

"What?" said Eragon, seemingly in an effort to understand what was happening around him.

"I miscounted the days", said Arya, staring towards Sílthrim and feeling both angry and ashamed of her mistake. "I didn't want to be anywhere near a city during Dagshelgr. Our celebrations are perilous for mortals. We sing in the Ancient Language, and the lyrics weave spells of passion and longing that are difficult to resist, even for us."

She fell silent, gazing intently into the wild forest beyond their camp, listening to the intoxicating sound of the music. Narí was stirring restlessly, and she shared his unease. How could she have been so careless? She had not even given Dagshelgr a thought. It had not seemed any important to know what day it was during this journey. Not until now, at least.

"We should be at a grove", said Narí.

"We should", Arya agreed, turning to meet the elf's eyes. "But we will do our duty, and wait."

And with that, she sat back down again on the soft, dry ground, waiting for this magical might to end.


	15. The end of the journey

Well ... not much to say about this chapter either ... So here we go!

Chapter 15: The end of the journey

Dagshelgr was meant to give life and energy to all the plants and trees, and that worked well enough on elves as well. Lifaen and Narí soon started pacing up and down, while Arya used all her willpower to remain where she was, and not follow Eragon's example and run straight into the wild night. She watched as animals started to appear everywhere around them, adding their different cries and grunts to the cacophony of sounds filling the forest.

When a few hours of the night had gone by, Saphira came swooping down to land in their camp. Arya was about to prevent her, but refrained. The dragon looked wild, humming deeply in time to the music and gazing with shining eyes towards Sílthrim. Arya knew that dragons too were affected by the music, though not nearly as strongly as humans and dwarves, and she made no effort to protect Saphira from the sound.

Eragon was getting to his feet now, putting his hand on Saphira's side and standing as close to her as he could get. Without really knowing why, Arya joined him, her hand resting on Saphira's other side. So they stood for a very long time, and the bond between them had seldom seemed so strong and so evident as it did now. With the exception of that morning on the bank of Az Ragni, Arya thought.

Morning came, and the music started fading away, so that Arya could break the spell she had cast on Eragon and Orik. The sun was rising above them just like it always did, and the stars were fading in their normal way too. But nothing felt like it had done yesterday. The forest was new, fresh and full of life that seemed to have come into being during this one night. On every branch of the trees, green buds could be seen, and the scent of flowers in the air was even stronger than usual.

While trying her best to remain as composed as before, Arya ordered Lifaen and Narí to go into Sílthrim and get horses for them. Once the elves had gone, she, Eragon and Orik packed their things, so that they would be ready to leave as soon as possible.

When the elves returned with the horses, Arya saw that the lack of saddles or reins confused Eragon greatly.

"How am I supposed to ride?" he asked.

"Our horses respond to commands in the Ancient Language", replied Arya, mounting one of them as she spoke. "Tell it where you wish to go and it will take you there. However, do not mistreat them with blows or harsh words, for they are not our slaves, but our friends and partners."

She hesitated, but then went on a bit more quickly:

"I was only able to save Saphira's egg from Durza because our horses sensed that something was amiss, and stopped us from riding right into his ambush. They won't let you fall unless you deliberately throw yourself off, and they are skilled in choosing the safest, quickest path through treacherous ground. The dwarves' Feldûnost are like that."

"That is true", Orik confirmed.

And with that, they set off again, riding deeper and deeper into the heart of the forest. The trees around them grew thicker and taller the further they rode, and the feeling of peace soon washed away all other sensations. Now, it was exactly as if they had entered another world. Before, when they had been paddling, the river had still been linking them to the world outside Du Weldenvarden. Now, they were following secret paths, hidden below the faintly rustling canopy of leaves, high above them. When it rained, the clouds and the leaves made it so dark, that Arya had to produce a ball of light for Eragon and Orik to be able to see at all. Even though, of course, their horses carried them safely even in the deepest darkness.

"I've never seen trees as large as these ones before", Eragon commented one morning, and his voice was filled with amazement.

"No", said Arya, coming to stand beside him and laying her hand on the tree trunk. "It means that we are near Ellesméra."

She was silent for a while, feeling the tree's mind, which did not consist of thoughts, like the mind of a human, elf, dwarf, Urgal or even dragon. The trees lived for hundreds, even thousands, of years, and since they had so much time, their minds were slow and what Arya guessed would be called thoughtful, if she had to find a word for it. But since the mind of a tree was not focused on one point in the same way as the minds of other living beings, she had never been able to find out whether this was correct or not.

Late that afternoon, they reached the place where the elf guarding Ellesméra stood, effectively preventing them from continuing on their way. Arya studied his ancient, noble face for some time, and then she suddenly knew exactly what to do.

"Eragon", she said quietly. "Show him your palm and your ring."

Eragon obeyed immediately, without any questions, it seemed. S soon as the elf before them caught sight of Brom's ring and Gedwëy Ignasia, he smiled and spread his arms, allowing them all to pass. In silence, they entered the proud city of ellesméra, where the tallest trees of the forest stood, and where Arya had not spent more than a few days since she left for the Varden.

As they passed into Ellesméra, Eragon gazed at all the buildings, which Arya and the other elves were so used to by this time. But of course, it must seem a little odd to humans and dwarves to see buildings built in the trunk of trees. And not so little odd either.

The inhabitants of Ellesméra began emerging from the trees on all sides, watching as Arya and her companions made their way towards the heart of the city. Eragon greeted them by touching his lips, a gesture which made them laugh openly. Soon, all the elves around them started singing, which made Eragon put his hands over his ears, as if to protect himself.

"It is no magic", Arya assured him, lifting his hands away from his ears.

Then, she added to her horse:

"Gánga!"

The horse turned and left them, and Arya told Eragon and Orik to release their horses as well. The animals certainly deserved to rest now, something Arya found she envied them for. If she had been allowed to decide, she would have run right to her house now and gone to bed. But instead, she had to meet her mother now, probably in front of the queen's whole council too. What were they going to say to each other? What would happen? She did not know, and had no time to stand and wonder about it.

By the time they reached the doors leading into queen Islanzadí's throne room, the atmosphere was excited and happy. The citizens of Ellesméra had been following them all the way, dancing around them and occasionally even jumping over their heads on the branches of the trees, talking and laughing all the while. And, of course, praising Saphira.

Anxiety gripped Arya's body as the doors before her swung open, and she was forced to walk through them, however much she now wanted to be somewhere else. In the room sat all the twenty-four elves of her mother's council, both men and women, all of them wearing swords. And there was the throne of knotted roots, in front of which Arya had been standing that terrible day when her mother announced that she was no longer allowed to stay in Du Weldenvarden.

As they walked into the throne room, Arya caught a glimpse of Blagden, the black raven who had once saved her father's life in a battle. And she heard his scream:

"Wyrda!"

The power in that single word unsettled Arya, like it always did, and she could see that it had the same effect on Eragon.

Queen Islanzadí sat on her throne, just as beautiful as ever before, surveying them all as they entered. But Arya, having seen all her mother's expressions before, could easily make out the unmistakable signs of grief and loss upon her face. Her eyes showed a vulnerability that Arya, as she walked up to the throne, thought was not at all suitable for the queen of the elves.

Concealing her emotions behind a blank expression, Arya knelt on the floor by the throne, bowing her head low and sensing, without having to look, how her companions did the same. Islanzadí stood up and went down from her throne. She placed her hands on Arya's shoulders, saying in a soft, but powerful voice:

"Rise!"

Arya did so, and her mother gazed intently at her face, without saying a word, for several minutes. Arya looked back, meeting the queen's gaze with as much composure as she could muster. Then, her mother suddenly cried out, while pulling Arya into an embrace:

"Oh, my daughter, I have wronged you!"

Everyone in the room, Arya knew without having to look at them, stirred as they witnessed this. But she had to look anyway, had to cast a glance over her shoulder, to see the surprise flashing across Eragon's face. It was evident that he was incapable of hiding it, but Arya wondered if he even tried. Shame rose within her for a short moment, as she wondered if she had after all done wrong. Maybe she should have told him? Maybe he'd had the right to know, even before they entered the forest?

"Oh, my daughter!" Islanzadí repeated, this time in the Ancient Language. "I have wronged you!"

As she continued speaking, the queen hid her face in her arms, seemingly oblivious to all the people surrounding them. Or else, she wanted to escape the people, and could find no other way to do this than simply hiding her emotions from the watchers.

"Ever since you disappeared, I've barely slept or eaten", she said. "I was haunted by your fate, and feared that I might never see you again. Banning you from my presence was the greatest mistake I have ever made. Can you forgive me?"

The offer hang in the air between them, and all Arya needed to do was accept it. It would be enough with one word, and then she and her mother would be able to talk just like they had done before. She needed only accept it!

But it was not that easy. One word could not explain the happenings during seventy years. Nor could it undo them. And Arya found she did not want to undo the happenings that had led her to this place. She wanted to remember, wanted her mother to understand what she had gone through.

"For seventy years, I have lived and loved, fought and killed, without ever speaking to you, my mother", Arya said, speaking just as loudly as needed for all of them to hear her words. "Our lives are long, but even so, that is no small span."

Straightening herself up to her full hight, Islanzadí said:

"I cannot undo the past, Arya, no matter how much I might desire to."

"And I cannot forget what I endured", replied Arya.

"Nor should you", said Islanzadí, gripping Arya's hands and staring her straight in the eyes. "Arya, I love you. You are my only family. Go if you must, but unless you wish to renounce me, I would be reconciled with you."

Arya hesitated yet again, feeling as if she was just about to jump out into nothing. What she was about to do now would change everything that she had known for such a long time by now. It would end her grief and anger, and it would bring new feelings into being, feelings that she was more unsure of. But she knew already what she must do.

"No, mother", she said softly. "I could not leave."

With an uncertain smile spreading all over her face, queen Islanzadí put her arms around her daughter once more, an embrace which Arya this time returned with relief. That was all she felt for the moment. Relief.

The next minutes - even hours- passed through Arya's mind without leaving much trace behind. She watched and listened silently as Eragon and Saphira greeted the queen, vaguely noticing how much they remembered from her lesson with them just before they all entered Du Weldenvarden. And she listened as Eragon and Orik told the queen all that had happened, both before and after the battle of Farthen Dûr.

Only a few things stuck in Arya's memory, where she believed they would remain for a very long time. Islanzadí taking Brom's ring from Eragon, only to return it to him again, thus naming him a friend of the elves. Eragon asking when his training could resume, and Islanzadí reminding them all of how little Eragon would be able to accomplish if the wound Durza had caused him could not be healed.

And, of course, Arya herself telling her mother all that had happened after Durza's ambush, while trying to be as detailed as she could without emotions. As she spoke, she noticed the anger that rose among the elves behind her. And after she had finished, one of the lords named Däthedr walked up to her, expressing his and the other elvs' grief and anger, and claiming that Galbatorix had to be punished for what he had done to her. Arya thanked him earnestly, although her mind was still elsewhere.

The festivities that followed upon their arrival to ellesméra were wonderful, of course, but Arya remembered only fractions of them. She ate like everyone else, but said only a few words during the entire dinner. She did, however, explain to Eragon why she had refrained from telling him and Saphira about her position among the elves, because she knew that he had the right to know that at least.

After dinner, queen Islanzadí stood up, announcing that she would withdraw to her rooms after showing Eragon and Saphira where they could sleep. But just before she left, the queen motioned to Arya, who understood and got to her feet as well. Her mother wanted to speak with her in private. So she turned and left, making her way silently to her own room. To her own home. After seventy years.


	16. Conversations at night

Hello,

Here is another chapter ... A little strange ...

Actually, I don't know where I got the ideas for this chapter, because it's not at all like I expected it to be when I started writing it. I even had to change the title!

Well, enough about that now. Please read on!

Chapter 16: Conversations at night

"Arya?"

"Yes, mother."

Islanzadí stopped Arya just as she reached the door to her own house. Arya had been intending to wait for her mother in one of the gardens, but had decided that if the queen really did want to speak to her, she would have to find her herself. She was simply too tired to stay up much longer.

As if echoing Arya's own thoughts, Islanzadí said in a soft voice that Arya had not heard her use in years:

"I know that the journey has made you tired, and I shall not keep you up for longer than I must. But I would like to have this conversation with you now anyway, because we can never know when our next opportunity to speak in private will come."

Arya wanted to protest, to tell Islanzadí that she was the queen of the elves, that she only needed to ask for a private word with her daughter, and Arya would come immediately. But for some reason, she suppressed the words, standing silently before her mother, waiting.

"Let us walk a bit!" Islanzadí suggested, leading the way back towards the garden where Arya's favourite plants grew.

"Do you think that we may talk undisturbed in the middle of the garden?" asked Arya, trying hard not to sound too skeptical about the idea.

"Yes, I do", said Islanzadí, not seeming the least troubled. "And I cannot think of any other place to go in the middle of the night. The garden is the best place if we do not wish to be overheard."

As they reached the garden and sat down on a bench, which stood in the middle of a small grove of trees, Arya understood her mother's words. The garden was full of a sensation of absolute peace. The benches, which stood here and there among the trees and plants, were places where elves sat and discussed all kinds of things, but none of them raised their voice above a murmur. And to disturb other elves in their conversation, especially if the queen herself was involved, would undoubtedly seem impolite. Besides, it was more usual for elves to sit and talk here among the trees than in the middle of the forest.

"You accepted my offer quicker than I thought you would", said queen Islanzadí, forcing Arya's mind back to the present. "I know that you could not wait too long with all the others watching. But I still thought ..."

"No", said Arya. "I have had much time to think about this moment now, and I needed no more time to make my decision."

"Is that so?" said her mother, as if she did not altogether believe Arya's words, even though the magic of the Ancient Language prevented her from lying.

"Yes", said Arya calmly.

The silence stretched between them again, making Arya feel more and more awkward with every minute that went by. She longed to lie in her bed, but yet did not want this moment to pass. There was so much she wanted to ask her mother after such a long time apart, but she could not think of where to begin.

Luckily, however, Islanzadí broke the silence before Arya had time to come up with a new topic.

"You did many things today that surprised me", the queen said. "I did not think that you were so willing to tell all of us about your imprisonment and ... and what was done to you."

"I have already described it to both Ajihad and Hrothgar", Arya replied, and this time she was not sure she succeeded in keeping her voice as calm and indifferent as she had done before. "I ... I am used to it by now."

Islanzadí looked as though she was about to protest, but to Arya's relief, she only said:

"Perhaps you are. You have certainly shown more strength than most elves would have been able to, and I am very proud of you. However, it pains my heart to learn that your companions, Glenwing and Fäolin, are dead. I do not know what to say, but ..."

Arya spoke without a conscious thought, without considering what reactions her words would get from her mother. Her mouth opened, and all the words came bursting out of her, like a wave that has been building its strength behind a barrier for so long, that it can no longer be kept in one place.

"You can apologize", Arya said. "You made them go with me, although you knew it was dangerous. I would not let them, but you insisted. Yes, I know how convincing they were, how sure they were that they too would survive if I did, but that does not matter. You sent them straight into the danger, without ever taking time to listen to my objections!"

Arya's voice was just as quiet as before, but anyone sitting next to her would have been able to sense her anger rising, until it was just below the surface, ready to break through at any moment. Islanzadí saw it too, but her expression remained calm and inscrutable. Even for Arya, it was impossible to see what thoughts were moving in her mother's head now. However, she was not in the state to care.

"Arya", said Islanzadí in a reassuring tone that Arya considered quite unnecessary, since she did not intend to let go of her rage quite yet. "You must try to understand. It was the only thing I could do to try and protect you, which I wanted to do all the time. Who knows what might have happened if you had gone alone?"

"Well", said Arya, her breathing quickening and her muscles tensing with each word. "Then I would have had an excellent chance to prove I was worthy of the Yawë symbol, that I would never abandon the elves or the Varden. That I had not failed in protecting Saphira's egg. Anyone in DU Weldenvarden would have been ready to do it, but you would not let me! Do you really think that I am still a small child whom you need to protect from every kind of danger that might be waiting for me outside of the forest? Well, I am not, and ..."

Arya's voice trailed off, as she realized exactly what she had just said. It had not at all been her intention to start another quarrel. Not now when she had finally been reconciled with her mother again. What had she been thinking? How could she have lost control like that? It was not like her in any way. Even though she sometimes did have strong emotions, she never allowed them to take over her thoughts so completely.

Maybe, she told herself. Maybe I am just tired. Maybe I need only rest, and I will be prepared to have a reasonable conversation with Islanzadí tomorrow.

"Arya", said her mother tentatively, touching Arya's arm with a gentle hand. "You know that was not what I meant. But it is true like you said. I have been trying to protect you, perhaps more than I should. For that, I apologize."

"Yes", Arya said, releasing the breath she had been holding while her mother spoke. "Like you said, I did know that. And I am sorry, too. I said things I did not mean to. I am just ... just tired. Tomorrow, we can discuss this further."

Arya stood up then, and her mother did the same. Together, the two of them left the quiet garden, neither of them saying another word.

As they walked back along the narrow path, the moonlight bathed them in a silvery stillness, which cleared away the last remnants of fury that had been lingering in Arya's mind. With that sensation gone, she found herself left in a state of weary sadness. Everything around her seemed strangely unreal, and not until she reached the door to her house did she realize that her mother had followed her all the way.

" I will see you in the morning", said Islanzadí. "And I do hope we can have another talk then."

"We will", Arya assured her. "Then, I promise I will tell you what you want to know. All of it."

Then, she did something that she would never be able to explain, no matter how much she tried. Just as her mother was going to leave, Arya twisted her right hand over her chest in the elves' gesture of respect, the one that Eragon had used towards the queen earlier. It was clear that Islanzadí only just managed to hide her surprise. She studied Arya's face closely for several seconds, as if trying to work out what she meant. And then, the queen repeated the gesture, before turning and wandering off into the mysterious darkness of the forest.

Arya closed the door firmly behind her, looked around the house once, and realized that she would have to spend tomorrow tidying up. When a house has been empty for seventy years, the layer of dust covering everything becomes quite thick.

But right now, she simply collapsed on her bed and closed her eyes, taking several deep breaths to calm herself. Despite the tiredness that she had been experiencing for such a long time, she had now difficulties stopping her thoughts from going through the entire evening once more. And when she finally managed to drift away into her waking dreams, she did not at all get as much rest as she had expected.

In her dream, Arya stood on the edge of a steep, her eyes turned towards the starry sky above her. Next to her was a man, with a face that showed both great wisdom and peace. But at the same time, he looked old and fragile. Arya knew of course who it was.

- Oromis-elda, she said.

- Arya Dröttningu, the old Rider replied. I am glad to see that you and your companions have reached Ellesméra. There is only one thing I want to talk with you about now, so I decided to do it right away.

- But, Arya could not help asking, why are you contacting me like this?

- I will be starting Eragon's education early tomorrow, explained Oromis. So I considered this the best way of talking to you. And that leads me to what I want to know. Right after Eragon had defeated Durza, I contacted him in his mind, and so I found out about his injury. But I do not know more than that it was made by Durza. So now, I would like you to tell me what you know.

- Oh! said Arya. I do not know that much myself, except that it ... it prevents him from doing what he needs to do, and he knows it himself.

Then, Arya described as well as she could that time when she had seen Eragon collapse, screaming in pain. The little amunt of things she could tell frustrated her greatly, but she would not let Oromis know that.

- Thank you, said Oromis once she had fallen silent. I shall think over what you said.

- Will you ... be able to heal him? Arya asked, already suspecting what the answer would be.

- I am not sure, Oromis replied. Perhaps. We will see. Now, may the stars watch over you.

And with those final words, Oromis withdrew from Arya's mind, leaving her in a state of confusion and tiredness.


	17. On the Crags of Tel'naeír

Oh yeah, yet another chapter! This time, I've used the same title as in Eldest, but maybe I'll change that if I find a better name for the chapter.

Chapter 17: On the Crags of Tel'naeír

The sun was rising above Du Weldenvarden. Birds started singing, their melodies blending together and spreading through the forest, born by the mild wind that had begun to blow in the late hours of the night. The trees outside Arya's window whispered in a peaceful way about mysterious things, hidden far away in the depths of the forest.

Arya opened her eyes slowly, watching as the first light of the new day filtered into her room. She had expected to sleep much longer than this today. But something had woken her, though she was at first too drowsy to make out what it was.

Then the sound returned, louder this time. A knock on her door. Someone was wanting her attention.

Slowly, unwillingly, Arya left her bed, dressed in the same clothes she had worn yesterday, and then went to see what had happened during the short time she had been asleep.

Her mother was standing outside, though not alone. A group of other elves was waiting behind her, and Arya recognized Däthedr among them. All of them had the same tense expression, which made arya wonder even more what was going on.

"Arya", said Islanzadí. "We are going to escort Eragon and Saphira to the Crags of Tel'naeír, where Oromis-elda and Glaedr Bjartskular are waiting for them. Will you follow us?"

"Yes", said Arya, trying to wake herself as she followed the others out, closing the door behind her. "I will."

First, they went to the common room in Tialdarí Hall, where they were accompanied by Orik, who seemed grim and unsettled. He kept glancing over at Arya as they made their way towards the tree house in which Eragon and Saphira lived now, and she understood that he, like Eragon, wondered who she really was. But since she was unsure whether she would be able to give him a satisfying explanation, she simply kept staring right ahead of her, and said nothing until they reached Eragon's house.

Orik went alone up the stairs and returned a few minutes later with Eragon following, while Saphira swooped down to the ground on her own. Both dragon and Rider looked expectant, but also wary, as if they were not sure what was going to happen next.

The group then proceeded to the high cliff where Oromis and Glaedr lived, aside from the rest of Ellesméra. They had chosen the place so as not to be disturbed in their meditation by all the other citizens of Ellesméra. Arya had at first not understood it, because Ellesméra always seemed like the perfect place to study, and meditate. But now, after having been woken like this,, she had to admit to herself that she did see the sense in Oromis' decision a bit more clearly.

Arya was interrupted in her thoughts when the group came to a halt, just at the foot of the cliff. Islanzadí began to speak, explaining to Eragon, Saphira and Orik how all of them must swear an oath never to speak to any outsiders about what they were now going to see. It was quite clear that neither of them was really fond of the idea, but they all accepted within a few minutes.

While the queen told them what to say, Arya looked towards the top of the Crags of Tel'naeír, seeing no one there. She had been here before, because Oromis had been the one to teach her some of the things she knew, though of course not all of it. His intension had been to educate Riders, Arya knew, but since there had been no Riders in Alagaësia for such a long time, she suspected he and Glaedr had not had much to do lately.

Presently, when both Eragon, Saphira and Orik had finished swearing the oath, they could all set off again. It did not take them long to reach the top of the cliff, where they then stood still, waiting. Eragon stared out over the forest that stretched as far as they could see in every direction below them. Arya watched the sky, looking this way and that, trying to find out from which direction Oromis and Glaedr would come. Her mind was unusually calm, which allowed her to pay much more attention to her surroundings that usual. She heard the rustling sounds as animals darted to and fro behind them, felt the warm breeze on her face ... and heard the faint, but unmistakable sound of beating dragon wings.

Suddenly, Arya stiffened, her gaze immediately turning in the direction of the sound. Vaguely, she became aware that Eragon was looking confused, as if he could not believe what he thought was happening. Orik on the other hand looked tense, showing no signs of excitement or joy.

Thud. Thud.

The sound grew louder and louder, and Arya was now perfectly capable of making out the large, glittering figure that was making its way through the air towards them. The golden dragon looked, as always, magnificent, shimmering in the morning light. So proud, so strong, so beautiful. And yet so filled with sadness and pain. And, as always when she watched Glaedr flying through the air like this, Arya wondered how one single creature could keep all those feelings within him without exploding.

As Glaedr swooped down to land before them, his beating wings raised a flurry of twigs and leaves. Oromis descended from his back and came to stand right in front of Eragon. He looked just as old, just ass wise, just as calm, as Arya had seen him in her dreams, and his presence gave her the same feeling of peace as it had done then.

"Osthato Chetovä", Eragon said, very quietly. "The Mourning Sage. As you asked, I have come."

Then, as if he suddenly remembered something, he quickly touched his lips and said the first greeting phrase in the Ancient Language. With a mild smile on his face, Oromis answered as he should do, then said:

"Oromis is my proper name, Eragon Shadeslayer."

However, Arya was no longer concentrated on the two Riders. At Oromis' words, she had sensed a change in her mother's demeanour, and turned to see the queen's face full of what seemed to be both hurt and fury.

"You knew", Arya's mother whispered. "You knew of Eragon's existence, and yet you did not tell me! Why have you betrayed me, Shur'tugal?"

"I kept my peace because it was uncertain if Eragon or Arya would live long enough to come here", explained Oromis mildly, moving his eyes from Eragon to Islanzadí. "I had no wish to give you a fragile hope, that might have been torn away at any moment."

"You had no right to withhold such information from me!" exclaimed the queen. "I could have sent warriors to protect Arya, Eragon and Saphira in Farthen Dûr, and to escort them safely here."

To Arya's surprise, Oromis was actually smiling by now, although it was a smile that contained only sadness.

"I hid nothing from you, Islanzadí, but what you had already chosen not to see", the old Rider said. "If you had scried the land, as is your duty, you would have found the source of the chaos that has swept Alagaësia, and learned the truth about Arya and Eragon. That you might forget the Varden and the dwarves in your grief is understandable. But Brom? The last of the Elf Friends? You have been blind to the world, Islanzadí, and you have neglected your duties as queen."

Islanzadí's anger faded immediately when she heard these words. She seemed to shrink slightly as she whispered:

"I am diminished."

Arya wanted so much to comfort her mother, but she could not think of any way to do so. And especially not here, in front of Eragon, Orik, Oromis, the dragons and the other elves. No. Whatever she would like to say to her mother, those words must wait.

Orik stepped forwards now, greeted Oromis, and then asked exactly the question Arya had feared.

"Why have you remained hidden for all these years?" the dwarf said. "You were sorely missed, Argetlam."

"Ah!" said Oromis, as if he had been expecting this question to come just as much as Arya had.

And then, Oromis explained how he and Glaedr had waited for one of Galbatorix's eggs to hatch, so that they could pass their knowledge on to the next dragon and Rider. But Orik was clearly not at all satisfied with this answer.

"That is your reason?" he burst out, appearing almost as angry as Islanzadí had been before. "Those are the words of a coward. The eggs might have never hatched."

Silence fell in the group. Glaedr growled deeply, his eyes fixing Orik with a stirn look in them. Islanzadí was the first to speak, and it was clear when she did that a part of her anger had been woken again by Orik's words.

"If you were not my guest here, I would strike you down myself for that insult", she said.

However, Oromis seemed not offended at all. Keeping his incredibly kind expression, he told Orik about his disability to perform all but the smallest of spells. It surprised Arya how easily he could tell them all about such private things, and she was furious with Orik for forcing him to do so. She would talk to the dwarf later on, she decided.

Presently, it was time for Oromis and Eragon to leave, for they had a lot to do. Arya watched as the two Riders mounted their dragons, not knowing what to say. Should she perhaps wish Eragon good luck?Or should she simply stand here and watch him go? So many other things had happened while they stood here, it left her confused, sad and unsettled.

However, Arya never had to decide what to do. Just as Oromis and Eragon were about to leave, Eragon turned to meet Arya's gaze, and she could see the joy and the wonder blazing in both his and Saphira's eyes. They loved this, and they were both so eager to learn all that Oromis had to teach them, Arya wanted to smile back at them. But she could not. All the sadness that seemed to have descended over them prevented her.

And then, the two dragons spread their wings and rose into the bright morning air, to fly off along the cliff.

When the two Riders had gone, the group scattered. Arya accompanied Orik back to Tialdarí Hall, because she was quite unsure if he would have been able to find the way himself. And she also wanted to protect him. Islanzadí's anger could not have drained away that easily, something that Arya had to discuss with her later. What she needed to do right now was make Orik understand his mistake, so that he would not make another one.

"That was not the wisest thing you could have said", Arya said to Orik once they were out of earshot of all the other elves. "To ask Oromis why he has not left Ellesméra is understandable, but you should certainly not have said more than that. Especially not in front of Islanzadí. Especially not now."

Orik grumted, then said:

"You are not the right person to tell me what I should and should not say, after your endless discussions with Gannel back in Tarnag. Oh, this is just like elves!"

Arya did not answer, and neither of them said another word until they reached the common room of Tialdarí Hall. There, she left Orik and wandered away on her own, intending to look for her mother and try to comfort her.

But however much Arya searched, she was unable to find queen Islanzadí anywhere. And finally, almost as if she had been dragged there by some invisible power, she found herself in the garden where her most favoured flower grew. The Black Morning Glory, the one Fäolin had made for her so long ago.

Arya stopped in front of it, her mind wandering far away from the troubles of the day, back to sunny afternoons she had spent in this garden together with Fäolin. And for the first time since she had woken in Farthen Dûr, that feeling of hurry seemed to have left her mind completely.

Sitting down on the soft ground, Arya looked slowly around the garden. She had expected another wave of memories to come crashing in over her as soon as she saw the flower, which was why she had not chosen to visit the garden the first thing she did yesterday. But nothing like that happened.

When she had been sitting still for several minutes, Arya closed her eyes towards the warmth of the sun. She intended not to sleep, but just rest for a little longer, here in the calm sweetness of the garden.


	18. Under a glaring moon

All right, I'll start this author's note by wishing you all a happy new year! I don't know why, but I just like this day ...

Now, the reason why I haven't posted anything lately is because I'm simply running out of ideas. So ... well, I don't really know what to write next. Of course, I'm not going to ask my reviewers to write this story for me, but if you have any suggestions ...

Chapter 18: Under a glaring moon

Arya entered the great library of Tialdarí Hall, walking silently across the floor so that none of the elves, who were all deeply concentrated on their books or scrolls, would be disturbed. She looked at all the shelves around her, at the thousands of books in which nearly all of the elves' knowledge was written. But none of the titles interested her today.

A day had passed now, a time during which Arya had only caught one glimpse of Eragon and Saphira, flying over the tree tops. She wanted to talk to them, but had resisted the temptation due to the fact that she at the same time was unwilling to disturb them in their education.

And now, the warm afternoon had arrived, with its familiar sounds and smells, and Arya had no idea what to do. Ever since yesterday morning, nothing had needed her attention, which was completely the opposite to what she had got used to.

So she had taken to simply wandering among the trees of Ellesméra, looking at all the buildings and places she passed and vaguely registering how well she still knew them all. And finally, she had reached the library, in which she now intended to spend the rest of the afternoon.

Arya sat down at an empty table in the back of the library, far away from the light and life of the city outside. She found a scroll and a quill, and suddenly felt her hand moving, forming the glyphs of the Ancient Language. She did not need to think, something she at that moment welcomed.

Writing had been something of a secret interest of hers ever since she was very little. It clmed her, letting her express feelings and thoughts that she was unwilling to speak of to anyone. And it allowed her to understand things far more clearly than if she simply let them rush through her together with all the thousands of thoughts, feelings and ideas that always existed in her mind.

Some time - Arya did not know how long - had gone by when she noticed the change in the light filtering into the library and the sounds from outside. The sun had begun to set, different birds were singing and a mild breeze was stirring the leaves of the trees. Evening had fallen.

Putting down her quill and rolling up the scroll, Arya got to her feet and stretched. Then, she left the library and wandered through the city, seemingly completely at random. A feeling of relaxation seemed to have come over her now, as if a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders. But no, that was not really the right word, she thought. It was more like she had finally managed to push aside all the distress, in the same way she had done in the battle under Farthen Dûr. For some reason she could not explain, the thought amused her so much, she could not help a laugh, and was glad that no one was there to hear it.

Suddenly, Arya was taken out of her thoughts by the unmistakable sound of beating dragon wings, and looked up to see Saphira flying over her head. With no really conscious thought about it, she started walking just beneath the dragon, waiting for her or Eragon to catch sight of her. But neither of them did. And there was something odd about Saphira's flight too, Arya realized. Her wings beat in a furious way, and she was flying straight towards where their tree house was built, looking neither left, nor right. And Eragon seemed not to be paying any attention to the vast sea of trees that was passing by under him, even though Arya knew how eager he had been to see Ellesméra in the first place. There was something here that was not right.

Arya waited at the foot of the tree in which Eragon's house was built, watching as Saphira disappeared into it. She wanted to give them time to eat, or whatever they had been intending to do, in private before she came to disturb them. Besides, she was not yet sure that disturbing them now was the right thing for her to do. But she had to, no matter how tired, how angry, how miserable they were. And why she felt this sudden need to speak to Eragon and Saphira, she had no idea.

When she had been waiting for a bit more than five minutes, Arya decided it was enough. Walking up the stairs, she knocked gently on the door three times.

"Enter!" came Eragon's voice from inside, and it was filled with an alarming amount of tiredness.

As Arya stepped over the threshold, Eragon gasped and jumped up from his bed, where he had evidently just been intending to sit and eat dinner. He seemed truly shocked, as if he had not expected her to come and visit him. But what did he think of her? Did he think she would just leave him and Saphira, now when they had reached Ellesméra safely? The thought made Arya sad, but she pushed aside the feeling.

"Arya!" Eragon said. "Why ... why are you here?"

"Do you plan on spending another evening inside?" Arya demanded, touching her lips with two fingers but refraining from saying the greeting phrase.

"I ...", Eragon began, and it was obvious that he didn't know what to say.

Arya cut across him:

"You have been in Ellesméra for three days now, and yet you have seen nothing of our city. I know that you always wished to explore it. Set aside your weariness this once and accompany me."

Seeing that Zar'roc lay on the bed, Arya took it, with the intention to show it to Rhunön, the smith who had forged all the Rider swords, but who had now sworn an oath preventing her from ever making one again. She would be delighted to see that at least one of her swords was still in the care of a Rider, even if it was this one.

As they walked down the stairs together, Saphira jumped down, without even bothering to unfold her wings.

- I'm coming, she announced, and Arya replied:

- Of course.

But she could see that Eragon looked slightly disappointed.

Through the gathering twilight they walked, past elves who were all doing different things, some of which were impossible to understand, even for Arya. Eragon's eyes seemed to widen every time he caught sight of one of these projects. In a quiet voice, he asked what elves spent their time doing, and Arya explained about how they could get everything they wanted with help from magic, so they used their time to study or do other things that they wanted to do. Eragon seemed surprised, and she thought that this must be completely the opposite to what he had got used to in the Spine. There, people had to work hard every day to get food, and here the elves used their magical powers to create things that humans could never dream of.

When they entered Rhunön's house, the elf woman was working with an unfinished ringmail. She was so deeply absorbed by her own work, she did not even notice the visitors. Arya waited silently, knowing that interrupting Rhunön before she had finished was pointless. When Rhunön finally was done with fastening another ring to the mail, Arya stepped forwards and said:

"May good fortune rule over you."

Rhunön turned around. Her face was so old and lined, and yet she still worked on the metal with the same speed and skill Arya had heard she possessed when making the Riders' swords.

As Arya noticed that Rhunön - once again - refused to answer her greeting, she said, without taking offence:

"Rhunön-elda, I have brought you the newest Rider, Eragon Shadeslayer."

Rhunön glared at her, then said in her horse, rasping voice:

"I heard you were dead."

Arya smiled, half amused, half exasperated. Rhunön had never, as far as she knew, enjoyed feasts, so it was no wonder she hadn't come to see when Arya and Eragon arrived. But she still reckoned the news about their arrival ought to have reached the smith by this time at least.

"When did you last leave your house, Rhunön?" Arya asked.

"You should know", the smith said. "It was that midsummer's feast you forced me to attend."

"That was three years ago", Arya pointed out.

"Was it?"

Rhunön seemed actually surprised.

"Well, what of it? I find company trying. A gaggle of meaningless chatter that ... But why are we speaking this foul language?"

She glanced over at Eragon and Saphira and then continued:

"I suppose you want me to make a sword for him. You know I swore to never create instruments of death again. Not after that traitor of a Rider and the distruction he caused with my blade."

"Eragon already has a sword", Arya said, before handing over Zar'roc to Rhunön.

Rhunön took the weapon and held it with an expression of wonder. Arya watched as she examined it, before suddenly swinging it over her head and cutting the tongs she had used before in half.

They remained together with Rhunön for a few more minutes, a time during which Rhunön, like every other elf Arya had met so far, inspected and praised Saphira. But then, she dismissed the three of them with the explanation that she was tired of their conversation.

"Rhunön-elda", said Arya, suddenly remembering something she had not given a thought during her time in Ellesméra. "Remember I will return for you on the eve of the Agaetí Blödhren."

Rhunön grumted, not taking her eyes off the ring she was forming. But Arya knew she had heard.

"She made all the Riders' swords?" Eragon asked when they had left Rhunön's house behind. "Every last one?"

"That and more", replied Arya. "She is the greatest smith who has ever lived. I thought you should meet her, for her sake and yours."

"Thank you", he said.

They walked in silence for a while, both of them deep in their own thoughts. Arya was going through the conversation with Rhunön in her mind, from the smith's comments when they entered to the look on her face once she got Zar'roc in her hands. As always after a conversation, her mind seemed ready to interpret every word that had been said, and every intension behind them.

"Agaetí?" Eragon said after a few minutes had gone by. "What does that mean?"

"Celebration", answered Arya, coming out of her thoughts. "We hold the Blood-Oath Celebration once every century to honour our pact with the dragons. Both of you are fortunate to be here now, when the celebration is so near."

By now, they had left the buildings of Ellesméra behind and entered the wild forest again. The trees were standing more thickly together here than in any other part of Du Weldenvarden, for they were very near the heart of the forest. Perhaps, Arya thought, it had been arranged like that on purpose, so as to protect the Menoa Tree from harm. But on the other hand, the tree could probably defend herself against any kind of danger, both natural and magical.

The Menoa Tree was, as always, standing in lonely stillness. The other trees around it looked small in comparison. Small, but significant in their own, special way. The moonlight was illuminating the whole scene, just like it had done that night Arya and Islanzadí had spent talking in the guarden of Tialdarí Hall.

"Behold the Menoa Tree", Arya whispered, feeling that it would not be right of her to raise her voice higher than that. "We observe the Agaetí Blödhren in her shade."

Eragon stared at the tree for a long time, his gaze thoughtful and distant. Arya thought she could sense a flow of thoughts going between him and Saphira, and she wondered what they were speaking about, though she did not expect to ever find that out.

However, not much time had passed before Eragon turned back to her and said:

"I - we - just remembered something. When I was in Teirm together with Brom, Solenbum gave me a ... prophecy. He said that when I needed a weapon, I should look under the roots of the Menoa Tree. And that when all seemed lost and my power was insufficient, I should go to the Rock of Kuthian and speak my name to open the Vault of Souls."

The Rock of Kuthian. The name echoed in Arya's mind, strange, mysterious and unreachable. The Rock of Kuthian. But however much she tried, she could not get any nearer finding out where she had heard it before. The Rock of Kuthian.

"Werecats rarely offer help", Arya said, almost surprised at how normal her voice sounded after the mysterious repeating of 'the Rock of Kuthian' in her mind. "And when they do, it is not to be ignored. So far as I know, there is no weapon hidden there, not even in song or legend. As for the Rock of Kuthian, the name echoes in my head like a voice from a half forgotten dream. Familiar, yet strange. I've heard it before, though I cannot recall where."

They walked silently closer to the Menoa Tree, Arya feeling the awe she always experienced in the tree's presence. Those slow, purposeful thoughts always attracted her attention, as if she was being pulled towards the tree's consciousness by some invisible power. She noticed now that Eragon was beginning to feel the same.

"It's awake!" he burst out suddenly, at the same time as Saphira flew up to one of the tree's branches, settling there like a strange bird. "I mean, it's intelligent!"

"Of course she is awake", replied Arya. "Shall I tell you the story of the Menoa Tree?"

"I'd like that", said Eragon.

So Arya explained to him about Linnëa, the old elf woman whose greatest skill and joy was to sing to plants and trees. At least, it had been her greatest joy until she met a young man, and they fell in love. But the man soon began wanting a woman of his own age, and he found one. When Linnëa learnt about this, she got so furious she killed the man. Linnëa had been so unhappy and full of regret then that she could not bear it, and she sang herself into the oldest tree in the forest.

As Arya spoke, she suddenly noticed that Blagden had landed on a branch above their heads, and she heard his cry echo through the stillness of the night:

"Wyrda!"

Yes, thought Arya. Wyrda.

The story she had just told, the difference in age between Linnëa and the man, had reminded her of Eragon, of what a young Dragon Rider he really was compared to her. And compared to Galbatorix. And yet they were sitting here together, on one of the roots of the Menoa Tree, and his face contained so many complicated feelings, she was unable to decipher them all.

"Do you think", Arya began, unsure why she was asking this, "that the young man was to blame for the tragedy?"

When Eragon replied, he seemed to be choosing each word with great care.

"I think that what he did was cruel and that Linnëa overreacted. They were both at fault."

Holding his gaze, Arya said:

"They weren't suited for each other."

"But ... maybe ...", Eragon began, but then seemed to realize he could find no objection and simply sighed: "No. Perhaps they weren't."

The time that went past now mattered little. Eragon and Arya remained where they were, talking about general things. Arya explained about how she and her mother lived in Tialdarí Hall, and noticed that Eragon seemed eager to see it. She made a mental note to show him, as soon as possible. But then, when she asked him about his studies with Oromis, she got only a grumt in reply.

"Oromis-elda", he said after a while, "is quite thorough."

Arya gripped his arm, again getting that strong feeling that something had gone wrong between Eragon and Oromis. And if that was the case, she would have to know. Someone would have to know.

But making Eragon tell her what it was turned out to be harder than Arya had expected. Something seemed to be preventing him. Was it ... shame?

"Ask Saphira", he said. "She can tell you."

"I want to hear it from you", Arya whispered back.

And finally, Eragon seemed to agree to tell her. Or at least, he seemed to understand that he had no other choice.

"I was supposed to meditate", he said. "And I ... well, failed. I only watched the ants and ignored the rest of the life in the clearing. And then, in the afternoon, I told Oromis about how I blessed that girl, Elva, in Farthen Dûr. And we discovered ... that I ... had said 'skölir' instead of 'sköliro'. So now I have forced her to shield others from misery instead of letting her be shielded from it."

Arya stared. The whole world around her seemed to sway as she understood the sense of Eragon's words. Ajihad had told her about his blessing, but she had hardly paid attention to it. And she had not known ... she had not thought ...

Letting go of Eragon's arm, Arya reached out to grab the root beside her, exclaiming before she could stop herself:

"Barzûl! I knew of your act in Farthen Dûr for sure, but I never thought ... I never suspected that such a thing could occur. I cry your pardon, Eragon, for forcing you to leave your rooms tonight. I did not comprehend your discomfort. You must want to be alone."

"No", said Eragon. "I appreciate the company, and the things you've shown me."

He looked at her with a smile on his face, and after a moment, she could not help smiling back. So they sat, side by side, together in the wide, calm clearing, bathed in the light from the moon.


	19. The flower

Well, here we go again with ... is it really chapter 19 that I'm writing? Have I written so much?

Well, of course I have. And thank you very much, all of you, for your reviews! I really love it when you can help me with a problem that I haven't managed to solve myself.

And to my anonymous reviewer: I'm going to use your idea with a summary in the next chapter. Thanks again!

And here comes, as some of you have already guessed, the chapter with ... But you'll see when reading.

Chapter 19: The flower

The following dawn passed completely without Arya's knowledge, and so did most of the morning as well. When she finally did wake up, she stayed in bed and simply watched the ceiling for a very long time. It was not that she was tired from last night's events, seeing as she had merely been sitting there under the leaves and branches of the Menoa Tree together with Eragon and Saphira. But a strange feeling had entered her body then, a sort of quiet happiness which she felt she had to understand before doing anything else. Some time quite soon, she would go and look for her mother, but she would not tell her about the conversation under the Menoa Tree. No, that one night was to be kept private between her and Eragon.

After having decided that, Arya finally left her bed and opened her door, letting the warmth of the day stream into her room. She looked towards the sun and smiled, before suddenly realizing what a strange sight she must be now, standing here in the doorway of her house, smiling at nothing in particular. Why? Why was she behaving like this? How could that one night have changed her in so many ways?

Confused, and perhaps even a bit frightened, Arya hurried back into her house and dressed, while still trying hard to work out in what ways she had changed. Then, she walked to the common room of Tialdarí Hall.

Orik was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed, a bottle of what Arya recognized after a few seconds to be faelnirv clutched in his hands. When he saw her, he staggered to his feet, swaying slightly from side to side as he tried to fix his eyes on her. It was obvious that he had already drunk more than what was good for him, but Arya decided not to point that out. At least not yet.

"Well, there you are!" Orik burst out in an inappropriately loud voice, causing several of the other elves in the room to glare at him angrily. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd perhaps forgotten how to get here. At least, Eragon doesn't seem to know it. I haven't seen him once since ... since that morning after we arrived here."

His words caused an idea to suddenly appear in Arya's mind, making a smile spread across her face. Orik was, of course, right. Eragon had never visited Tialdarí Hall, and since he had seemed curious about where she lived, she could show him that tonight. That would give them a perfect opportunity to be together, to talk more. If, of course, he was not too tired. Or too miserable.

"No, I don't think he knows that", Arya admitted. "I will show him tonight, though."

"So ...", Orik said slowly, to Arya's relief lowering his voice somewhat. "You've seen him then, have you? Eragon, I mean."

"Yes, I have", she said, careful not to tell him too much of what she had just decided to keep to herself. "But only once."

Orik sighed.

"I wonder why he is not visiting me, though."

"Well, he needs to concentrate on his studies, of course", Arya explained, speaking very slowly and wondering exactly how much Orik had been drinking these last days. "And the little amount of time makes it even more important that he can read undisturbed."

"Study and read ...", murmured Orik, sounding as if he was tired of the very words.

"Well, that is why he is here in the first place, is it not?" Arya said, feeling that the conversation had turned right into stupidity and that she would not go on like this when there were so many elves listening close by.

Orik gazed at the floor, looking sad and lonely. It made Arya want to do something for him. Of course, he must feel just as exposed, lonely and awkward as she did in Farthen Dûr, something which she had not at all thought of since entering Ellesméra. The thought made a feeling of guilt rise inside her.

Reaching out and placing a hand on Orik's arm, Arya murmured a spell that would cure him of the effects caused by the faelnirv. Orik blinked, and his eyes suddenly focused fully on her.

"Why ... why did you do that?" he asked in a tone of bewilderment.

"Because", said Arya in an imitation of Angela that she considered to be quite good, "I felt like it. No, listen, I really do not think you should go around in that state, because it will make you do ... things that you shouldn't."

"Oh!" Orik said, letting out a small sigh. "No, I suppose you're right. Well, I'll see you later then."

"Yes, you will", Arya promised, before turning and wandering away, still deeply concentrated on the problems Orik would surely get.

The day seemed, in some strange way, longer than days used to be. The sun was moving so slowly across the sky. Arya kept waiting for the arrival of the evening, when she would be able to see Eragon and Saphira again. From time to time, she wondered why she could not just stop thinking of them and do something else, but she never seemed to be that successful. And, more often, she wondered, just like she had done that morning, what had happened to her last night. What had made her become this ... impatient? But no, that wasn't it. She was not impatient, but ...

No, she couldn't understand it, and was soon forced to come to the conclusion that brooding on it would only make her old doubts and worries return. So she went to a small, hidden clearing, sat down on the ground and concentrated as best she could on the methods she knew to calm her mind and body.

When Arya's concentration finally was broken, it was by the arrival of the birds announcing that the day was over. And yes, when she looked towards the sky, she saw that the sun was just about to set. So she got up and hurried to Eragon's house.

When she knocked on the door and was told to come in, Arya noticed that Eragon's voice was not at all filled with the same tiredness and frustration he had shown the day before. She stepped into the house, seeing that he had evidently planned to spend the evening reading. But after she had explained that she wanted to show him Tialdarí Hall, he put the scrolls aside and got up from the bed immediately.

"I'd be delighted to see it", he said, to Arya's surprise speaking the Ancient Language.

- He means we'd be delighted to see it, Saphira added, also in the elven tongue.

Eragon's eyes met Arya's, and he must have sensed her unspoken question, because he said:

"Oromis-elda wants us to speak this language, even to each other, so that we can learn it more quickly."

Changing language as well, Arya answered:

"An excellent idea. And it is more appropriate to speak thus while you stay here."

Arya, Eragon and Saphira walked towards the western part of Ellesméra, passing several other elves, almost all of whom Arya recognized. Everyone stopped to bow respectfully to Saphira, greeting her and Eragon in their soft, melodic voices.

Eragon kept looking around, and after a while, he said:

"I've seen no children in Ellesméra yet, and I have been here for several days now, after all."

"Ah yes", said Arya. "We have few children. Only two are in Ellesméra at the present. We treasure children above all else because they are so rare. To have a child is the greatest honour and responsibility that can be bestowed upon a living being."

By this time, they had reached Tialdarí Hall, and Arya caused the doors to open by saying the usual phrase:

"Root of tree, root of vine, let me pass by this blood of mine."

Arya led the way through the garden that lay beyond the doors, feeling the usual sense of peace descending over her as they walked. She looked at Eragon to see his reaction, and found that he stared at everything they passed with wide, astonished eyes.

They wandered slowly on, through halls and buildings, along narrow paths, but always where Arya was sure there would be enough space for Saphira to follow them. Speaking quietly so as not to disturb the peace and the silence, she described to Eragon about the different flowers they saw, where they could grow without magic, how the elves had managed to make them survive here in the forest, and so on. He seemed curious about it, but she could not help noticing that his eyes seemed to be returning to her every so often.

It caused a flicker of unease to disturb Arya, but it was too far away for her to understand it properly. However, there were plenty of other things about Eragon and Saphira that surprised her by this time. Some time - she was not sure when - she had stopped thinking of them as a dragon and Rider. By now, they were not even her allies, but her friends and companions.

Companions. It was the same word she had always used to describe Fäolin to people. He had been her companion, and now Eragon was. Did that make sense? Yes, she supposed it did. But it still confused her greatly, and with confusion followed anxiety, an anxiety that she knew she would have difficulties shaking off.

For a short time, queen Islanzadí accompanied them, which just caused Arya to remember that she had completely forgotten to talk to her mother, as she had promised herself to do that same morning. But now, there was no time to mention that, and the queen talked only to Eragon and Saphira, something which Arya accepted without questions.

When they had returned to the main garden and were just about to leave, Eragon asked Arya which of the flowers was her favourite. She smiled, guiding him over to the place where the Black Morning Glory grew. It delighted her in what she considered to be a childish way that he had actually asked her, that he was interested.

Leaning forwards and blowing gently on the flower, Arya whispered to it to open, which it did with a faint, russling sound, very similar to that of trees in a breeze. For a moment, the two of them stood in silence as Eragon contemplated the flower. They were so close to each other now.

Not having the slightest idea why she said it, Arya murmured:

"Is it not the most perfect and lovely flower?"

"Yes, it is", Eragon answered.

He hesitated for a short time, then turned to look at her directly, saying in an even lower voice:

"As are you."

His words hung in the still night air between them. Arya had no response. She did not know how to react. Nor was she able to tell what he had meant by them. Had it been just a simple complement, something that anyone could have said without the slightest hesitation? But she got the distinct feeling that was not the case.

But she had to say something, had to give Eragon a reply, so that the pause in their conversation would not stretch and last for something that would feel like an eternity for the two of them.

Feeling her lips twist into a faint and quite unexpected smile, Arya said:

"You are too kind."

She reached up to touch the flower, as if to gain strength from it, as she had done so many times before. She felt that this was not right, but could not think of any way to interrupt their conversation now.

"Fäolin created this especially for me", she explained, ", one summer solstice long ago."

"Oh!" said Eragon. "Well ..."

He was silent for a while, his expression now impossible for Arya to read. And now, she also became aware of the tension in Saphira's body, and she understood that the dragon was angry with Eragon for saying what he had just said.

Finally, Eragon said in a louder and more formal tone:

"Please, excuse us, Arya Svit-Kona. But it is late, and we must return to our tree."

"Of course, Eragon", she said, still with the same smile on her face. "I understand."

However, when they had gone all the way to the doors leading out of the garden and Arya had opened them, Eragon stayed on the threshold for a while. He seemed hesitant again, but then asked:

"Will we see you tomorrow?"

Arya had to think before replying. A part of her wanted to say that of course they would. But the confusion she felt made her realize that she must understand this before doing anything else, before saying anything else.

Choosing her words with care, Arya said in a tone that she hoped would not be too offending:

"I think I will be busy tomorrow."

"Ah!" said Eragon, his disappointment clearly visible to her. "I see. Well, good night then."

What she had said had not been no lie, thought Arya as she walked back through the garden. Her confused feelings and thoughts would indeed, she supposed, keep her busy for more than just one day.


	20. The bitterness of understanding

Hello everyone, and welcome to chapter 20!

This time, I REALLY DO hope I did not make Arya OOC, so please, please tell me if I did!

Chapter 20: The bitterness of understanding

It had gone wrong. Arya knew it the instant she awoke the next morning. Something between her and Eragon had not at all gone as she had planned. For a moment, she allowed herself to think back to the previous morning, when she had been so calm and happy. But she pushed the thought aside, finding that it only frustrated her.

Thinking that she had better do something, Arya left her house and walked at a quick pace into the depths of the forest, with the intention to find somewhere quiet where she could think without having to be disturbed. And all the while, one question kept returning to her. What was going to happen now?

She knew that neither she, nor Eragon could afford to let their confused feelings distract them from their main task, which still was to fight and defeat Galbatorix. That was important, and everything else, she told herself in a stern tone, could wait until later.

But it was not going to be that easy. These thoughts, these feelings, would not be as easy for arya to push away as her usual anxiety and thoughts. Perhaps it was because a part of her still wanted to explore, wanted to find out more. But she would not let that part of her mind take over her now.

As arya wrestled with her thoughts, she came to a small grove of trees, in the middle of which queen Islanzadí was sitting on a bench. She was writing something, hiding the scroll with her arms so that no one would be able to see what was on it. Arya joined her silently, her mind still elsewhere.

Islanzadí finished her last sentence and looked up. Her eyes met Arya's, held her gaze for such a long time, that Arya found herself tempted to blink. Suddenly, she felt like a small child who has been seen doing something forbidden. But that was quite illogical, because her mother knew nothing of her troubles. At least, she ought not to know anything about them.

"Arya", Islanzadí said, speaking in an unusually soft voice. "I was just wondering where you were."

"Oh, I only just woke", replied Arya, who felt like an innocent subject like this was all she could make herself talk about for the moment. "What is it you are writing?"

"It is my poem to the Blood-Oath Celebration", her mother responded. "Perhaps I should not ask, but have you started on yours yet?"

"Poem? To the Blood-Oath ..."

Arya's voice trailed off, as the memory suddenly returned to her. Every elf was to make an own gift to the Agaetí Blödhren, and she, like many others, had decided to write a poem. But she had not written a word of it yet. Silently, she counted the days that were left until the celebration in her head. There was still quite much time. But considering how much had already happened, she wondered if there would be any time left for her to concentrate on something as simple, as normal, as writing.

"No, I have not", Arya admitted. "I only just remembered. The only excuse I have is that ..."

"I understand, Arya", her mother said, quite unexpectedly. "We have certainly had a lot to think about ever since you returned."

"Indeed we have", murmured Arya.

She looked at the leaves above their heads, suddenly seized by an intense longing to lie up there on one of the branches, happily drifting away into a peaceful sleep. She wished that she did not have to worry, that she did not need to solve every problem that came in her way, at the same time as she must always do something else. The next moment, she berated herself for what she had just thought. What was the matter with her? She had been feeling like this before, for sure, but it was such a long time ago. And she had thought she had got used to it by now.

"There will be plenty of time for you to write something good, I am sure", Islanzadí was saying, and Arya made a huge effort to recall herself to the present.

"To write ...", she began, searching in her mind for the subject of their conversation. "Yes, I suppose so."

Silence reigned between them for another few minutes. Mother and daughter sat still on the bench, with the rich life of the forest going on around them, but not disturbed in any way by it. Arya found the time peaceful. She still had all her troubling thoughts about Eragon to deal with, but this was the first time she had spent with her mother without arguing abaout anything. This was the first time they had talked like a mother and daughter should, an she wanted to keep it like this in her memory.

The sudden sound of loud and carelessly placed footsteps caused Arya to leap up from the bench. Looking through the branches hiding the little grove from view, she caught sight of Orik, walking along the path. He was alone, but to Arya's immense relief, she could see no bottle in his hand.

Quickly stepping out in front of him on the path, she asked:

"Where are you going?"

Orik stopped, cursed and then said:

"You elves appear from everywhere, and I still can't understand how you do it! As for where I am going, I was wanting to see how Eragon's education is proceeding. That is, as I am sure both of you are aware, one of my reasons for being here in the first place."

Behind her, arya sensed that Islanzadí too had left the bench, and she also became aware of the tension in her mother's demeanour. And she knew that it was because the queen knew, just as well as she herself did, that what Oromis taught Eragon was to be kept secret to all but the Riders themselves. But she also understood Orik's wish for information.

Therefor, Arya turned to the queen and said, changing to the Ancient Language:

"Hrothgar will be wanting to know how Eragon is doing, since so much depends on him. We cannot refuse the dwarves that information, can we?"

Islanzadí studied her face closely for a few seconds, then said:

"No. We cannot. However, I do think that someone ought to follow Orik to the Crags of Tel'naeír, since he does not know the way himself. You could do that, could you not?"

Arya wanted to say no, that she had other things to do and that there were many others who knew the way just as well as she did. But the words she spoke were not at all anything like that.

"Yes, I suppose I could", she said, turning back to Orik. "We could go there straight away."

"Oh no!" the dwarf laughed, shaking his head. "First, I have to make myself presentable."

Arya looked at his hair, which was hanging loosely around his face, and at his dirty clothes, and she understood the sense in his words.

"I will meet you outside Tialdarí Hall this afternoon then", she said.

"Good!" Orik agreed.

Then, the three of them parted.

Arya spent the remaining time trying to write something for the Agaetí Blödhren. But her concentration seemed to have abandoned her over the night, and she ended up with a scroll that was as blank as it had been when she started.

Why she had volunteered to go with Orik to meet Eragon and Saphira again so soon, even though she knew that there were things she must understand before speaking to them again, she could not explain. She had, of course, acted without thinking, just like she had done in Farthen Dûr, driven more by instinct than by thoughts or reason. It was not a satisfying explanation, but it was the only one she could find.

When afternoon arrived, Arya and Orik walked together to Oromis' house. Luckily, Eragon and Oromis were standing on the grass outside the house, Oromis holding several tablets in one hand, tablets which Arya knew were Fairths. A sudden curiosity seized her. So Oromis was teaching Eragon how to make Fairths? But why? Weren't there more important things for them to do?

Arya's thoughts were interrupted when orik, without any warning at all, rushed onto the grass in front of Oromis' house, crying:

"Hail, Rider!"

Eragon turned round, a startled expression on his face, where as Oromis looked just as calm as usual. He, Arya and Eragon exchanged the usual greeting phrases, Arya all the time avoiding meeting Eragon's eyes, even though she saw that he tried to make her do so.

Instead, she tried to apologize to Oromis for their sudden arrival, but Orik cut across her, explaining the same reasons he had done to her and Islanzadí, but more eloquently now. However, it took him quite long to persuade Oromis to let him and Arya stay and watch, even though Arya suspected that the old Rider was merely testing Orik's arguments. She had seen him doing that before, and knew how good he was at it.

After finally having allowed Orik to stay and watch until the end of that lesson, Oromis turned back to Eragon, who had kept his eyes constantly fixed upon Arya, evidently waiting for any kind of response from her.

"Don't wander, Eragon!" Oromis said sternly. "I want you to make another Fairth. Keep your mind open, like I told you before."

"Yes, master", said Eragon, apparently guilty for his lack of concentration.

Silently, Arya watched as he took the tablet from Oromis, and then started looking for something to picture. It took him longer than she had expected.

Orik, who did not know what a Fairth was, got a distinct air of impatience abaout him, as he waited for something to happen that could tell him what this lesson was about.

Then, Eragon spoke in the Ancient Language, pronouncing the spell that was needed to create a Fairth. And arya, who was watching him intently all the while, saw the muscles in his arms tense as he gripped the tablet. But he was hiding it ffrom view, so she could not see what was on it.

A long, silent minute dragged by. Oromis seemed more puzzled with every second, until finally, he asked:

"What have you made, Eragon?"

"I ... I don't know", Eragon replied, seemingly unwilling to release his grip on the Fairth.

It was as if he did not want to reveal what he had made, but was forced to realize that he had to. Oromis' eyes grew stern. And then, to Arya's surprise, he passed the Fairth on to her, still not saying a word.

Arya looked down at the surface. There, gazing up at her, was a picture of herself. But it was not like she looked. Firelight was illuminating her face, which looked mysterious, wise, dangerous ... and beautiful. She looked, she realized, exactly like she did in Eragon's eyes.

A thousand thoughts, questions, wild speculations, suddenly came thundering in over her. But the feeling dominating her now was panic. She did not want this. She had not asked for it. And she would not allow it. It was not right. This was what had gone wrong yesterday.

"Well?" Orik demanded, his voice sounding as though it came from a very distant place. "What is it?"

What is it? She did not want to tell him, did not want to ever tell anyone about it.

Raising the tablet high above her head, Arya smashed it towards the ground, obliterating all evidence that it had ever existed. And then, she turned and left, walking with as much pride as she could muster, straight into the wild, uninhabited forest.

Oh, how clear everything was now! How clear it had been for such a long time, and she had not known! There had been sign after sign of those feelings which Eragon had so utterly failed to keep to himself, as he should have done, and she had ignored them all! She felt small, unknowing, inexperienced, and she had no idea how to react.

Arya kept running through the forest. She knew herself well enough to be aware that only action could stop the storm that was raging within her now. If she had just been able to say that she did not want Eragon's attention, this would have been so much easier. But there was still that small, insignificant part of her which wanted it to happen.

No. No part of her wanted it. It was another feeling, weaker, but present all the while.

What she did know for certain, however, was that the only thing she would obtain by staying so close to Eragon was distract him from his studies, his task. So she had no choice. She must leave ellesméra.

But she could not leave ellesméra. There were too many promises preventing her. Some of them were spoken, most of them were not, but all of them were just as binding. She had promised her mother to stay for longer than this. She had told Nasuada that she would remain in Ellesméra for quite long, and they had both been hoping that Islanzadí would give the Varden her support again. That, Arya was sure, would not happen if she left now.

And, what was most important of all, she had promised herself to help the Varden in any way she could to win the battle. But by distracting Eragon from his duties, she was doing the opposite, was she not?

It was so confusing! it was so impossible to understand!

The tiredness following the last thought was so intense, that Arya stopped running altogether. Before her lay even more forest. But she would not run on.

Sinking to the ground, she wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her head on them. It took her some time to notice that tears were filling her eyes. She let them fall, for there was no one who could see her now. There was no reason not to cry, when she was at such a loss what else to do.


	21. Apology

Hello!

First of all, I'm so sorry for leaving you all waiting for this chapter, especially after that little cliffhanger in the last one. And thanks so much for all the reviews I got!

And now, you won't have to wait any longer, (and hopefully not for the next few chapters either).

Chapter 21: Apology

Over the next few days, the shock Arya had experienced when learning about Eragon's feelings subsided, even though her mind hardly ever left the subject. She spent most of her time outside, avoiding any kind of contact with Eragon or Saphira. It was clear that Eragon wanted to talk to her, but since she had not yet managed to decide how to react to this, she refused to let him do so.

Of course, Arya knew that she could not go on treating a dragon and Rider like this either, because everyone who noticed it would suspect that she was offending them on purpose. And she could not afford to let anyone believe that.

Meanwhile, Arya noticed that she and her mother somehow had begun to develop a new relationship, after seventy years of anger. The queen knew of course nothing of what had happened between Arya and Eragon, but it still seemed as though she understood some of what Arya was going through at the moment. She had no idea what in her mother's behaviour gave her that feeling, because they rarely mentioned Eragon at all, but it still gave her a sense of comfort.

During the times when she could bring herself to think about something else, Arya wrote furiously. She felt as if she could flee right into her text and forget everything else. In fact, she noticed that writing on her poem gave her more rest than sleeping did, since her dreams were so full of all that which she had and had not thought during the day.

And in that way, the days passed. Soon, they flowed into one another, so that the only way in which Arya could tell them apart was by watching the rising and setting of the sun. But where as most elves thought of this as a peaceful way to live, the waiting soon became unbearable to her, again.

So, one sunny afternoon when she was walking along next to Islanzadí, she finally made her decision. Directly after the Blood-Oath Celebration, she would return to the Varden, to assist them like she had done before. She had already remained in Ellesméra for longer than she had thought she would, and if it had not been for the Agaetí Blödhren, she would have left tomorrow morning. That would also, she thought in a kind of grim satisfaction, free Eragon of her distracting presence, although he would surely not appreciate it.

Taking a deep breath, Arya explained to the queen what she had just decided, with an increasing feeling of unease within her. How would her mother react to this? Of course, she had known all the time how soon Arya needed to return to the Varden again, but still ...

However, all Islanzadí said once Arya had finished speaking was:

"Yes. I have been waiting for you to say something like that. And although you know I would rather wish you stayed for longer than this, I shall not prevent you."

"Thank you", said arya. "But ... there is something I must ask you."

"Yes?" her mother said, her surprise clearly noticeable both in her voice and her expression.

"Will you ...", Arya began, searching for the right words. "Will you give Nasuada and the Varden your support again?"

She had not asked the question so directly before, and almost expected her mother not to answer it.

"I thought you already knew", Islanzadí said finally. "I decided that the same evening you returned."

"Thank you", Arya said again. "And yes, perhaps I did know it already. I jus needed confirmation."

"Yes", Islanzadí said. "I am glad that you will stay over the celebration, Arya."

Her words caused Arya to laugh, something she felt like she had not done in weeks.

"I would not miss that opportunity", she said. "Not now, when I have the choice to stay."

As Arya walked back towards her house that evening, she thought for the first time since she had arrived at Ellesméra of what the Varden might be doing now. Had they managed to reach Surda? Was Orrin willing to give them his support? How was Nasuada doing as leader of the resistance against Galbatorix?

I should have thought about all this before, Arya thought. How can I have been so forgetful? I have only cared about my own problems.

The realization made her feel ashamed of herself. Of course, she knew that contacting Nasuada and the Varden would not be the easiest thing in the world. But still, she could have paid them a thought, could have asked herself if they had even survived the journey to Surda.

Well, she thought, opening the door to her house. She had been forgetful, but she would make up for that as soon as she joined the Varden again.

There, Arya's thoughts stopped altogether. Standing by her window with his head bent forwards was ...

No, she thought. No, it cannot be him. How did he find his way? And why ...

At the same time, Eragon turned around, and she saw that he was holding a scroll in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. He had been reading her poem, although no one was supposed to see it until the Agaetí Blödhren. And he had entered her house without her permission. Even without her knowledge.

Their eyes met, and Arya managed with an effort to conceal her feelings behind her usual blank, indifferent expression. The air in the room felt tense, as if it was vibrating with some kind of magical power. And that, Arya thought, was a description as good as any.

Then, Eragon lifted the bouquet of flowers and said in a tone that revealed much uncertainty:

"I don't know how to make a blossom for you, like Fäolin did. But these are honest flowers, and the best I could find."

"I cannot accept them, Eragon", Arya replied flatly, wondering where this conversation would lead.

"They're not ...", Eragon began, evidently searching for words. "They're not that sort of gift."

He hesitated for some time, and she found herself wondering if he had prepared what to say, but had now forgotten it.

"It's no excuse", Eragon said finally. "But I didn't realize before that my Fairth would put you in such a difficult situation. For that I'm sorry, and I cry your pardon. I was just trying to make a Fairth, not cause trouble. I understand the importance of my studies, Arya, and you needn't fear I will neglect them in order to moon after you. That's all."

Eragon fell silent, staggering and leaning against the wall behind him, as if he needed support. And Arya noticed now how pale his face was, how tired he looked. Hadn't Oromis been able to do anything to heal him?

A warm feeling suddenly surged up within her. It was not that strange longing she had experienced before, which had frightened her so much that she wanted to run away into the forest again. It was more ... compassion. Sympathy. Yes, that was the word. She felt sympathy with Eragon for what he had to do, and she wished she could help him in some way.

Reaching out her hand, Arya took the flowers from him. They smelled sweet, reminding her of when the spring had just arrived to the forest. That was the season which elves enjoyed the most, when all the flowers were starting to grow, and life could be seen wherever you looked.

"They are honest flowers", Arya agreed in a soft voice, and then she asked: "Have you been ill?"

"No", Eragon said. "My back ..."

He fell silent, but she needed no more words to understand. She had heard from Oromis that Eragon's injury had given him more difficulties lately. But she had thought that Oromis, who was probably the wisest person she knew, could have done anything. At least, he could have reduced the pain, if healing the wound lay beyond his ability.

"I should go", Eragon said, but Arya suddenly burst out:

"Wait!"

She realized that she did not want him to go. Her anger seemed to have faded away altogether, and she wanted to talk, to make up for that time when she had not even allowed herself to meet his eyes.

Arya led Eragon over to the bench below her window, and then started to make tea. Everything was quiet now, but for the distant sounds coming from outside. Arya found she enjoyed it, in the same way she had done when showing Eragon and Saphira to the Menoa Tree. And she could see in Eragon's face that he felt the same.

"I wish ...", Eragon began after a silent minute. "I wish it could always be like this. It's so perfect and quiet."

Arya did not reply, but asked instead:

"How is Saphira?"

"The same", Eragon replied. "And you?"

"I have been preparing to return to the Varden", she said, wondering how the news would affect him.

"When?" Eragon asked, giving her a look of badly concealed alarm.

"After the Blood-Oath Celebration", Arya said, and then she explained her reasons for staying so long in Ellesméra.

The minutes passed in silence. Arya looked out of the window, at all the elves wandering along the paths. Then, she returned her gaze to Eragon, finally unable to keep from asking the question she had been thinking of for such a long time now.

"Is there nothing Oromis can do for you?"

"He tried everything he knows", Eragon replied in a weary tone.

"Your studies go well though?" Arya went on.

"They do."

Eragon lifted up the peace of paper on which her poem was written, watching every glyph closely.

"Do you write much poetry?" he asked then.

Taking the paper and rolling it up, Arya answered:

"It is custom that everyone who attends the Blood-Oath Celebration should bring a poem, a song or any other piece of art that they have made, and share it with those assembled. I have but begun to work on mine."

"I think it's quite good", he said.

"If you had read much poetry ...", Arya began, but she was interrupted by Eragon.

"I have", he said simply.

Arya was silent. His words had caused her to revalue him, again. She had not thought of it, but now realized exactly how much Eragon had changed since she had first met him. He was not the person he had been then.

"No", was all Eragon said once she expressed these thoughts to him. "I ..."

He paused again, and she understood that he was unsure how she would react to his next words. Silently, she waited.

"Arya", Eragon said finally. "You'll be leaving soon enough, and I would count it a shame if this is the last I see of you between now and then. Could we not meet occasionally, as we did before, and you could show Saphira and me more of Ellesméra?"

"It would not be wise", Arya responded, hoping that her voice did not sound too stern.

With a look of helplessness, Eragon said:

"I cannot help how I feel towards you. But I would rather suffer another wound from Durza than allow my foolishness to destroy the companionship that existed between us. I value it too highly."

"Our friendship shall endure, Eragon", Arya promised, for some reason feeling a kind of relief within her as she released the words. "As for us spending time together ... perhaps. However, we shall have to wait and see what the future brings, for I am busy and can promise nothing."

Eragon looked at her, and she could see a faint smile on his lips as he said:

"Of course, Arya Svit-Kona."

They sat together for a few more minutes, and then Eragon left.

When he had gone, Arya went to bed, still with that feeling of relief possessing her mind. The conversation had calmed her, and she thought again of the changes that had come over Eragon. Perhaps that would mean that it would be easier for them to be together, without anything happening that could ruin their friendship again.

With that comforting thought in her mind, Arya closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift away from everything. And this time, her dreams were full of completely different pictures and impressions.


	22. The Blood-Oath Celebration

Here's another chapter for you ... Longer author's note will be at the bottom of the page.

Chapter 22: The Blood-Oath Celebration

Another few weeks went by, and to Arya, it was the most peaceful time she had experienced since arriving at Ellesméra. She did spend time together with Eragon and Saphira, listening to concerts or simply wandering among the trees of Ellesméra. But she never allowed the three of them to be alone. This was probably making Eragon disappointed, but he had become much better at hiding his emotions now than he had ever been before, something which Arya found she was grateful for.

However, she did not get much time to think of her and Eragon's emotions these days, because something else was beginning to take over her mind. The Agaetí Blödhren was nearing. Every day brought them closer to it, and with every day, the feeling of excitement rose higher within Arya. But with excitement followed nervousness.

This would be completely new to her, and she was frightened of making any mistake. She was frightened of revealing the fact that she had been away from Du Weldenvarden for such a long time. And she was frightened of acting too foolishly when the magic of the feast crept into her mind.

Meanwhile, elves from other cities in Du Weldenvarden had begun to arrive at Ellesméra. The paths seemed always busy, even the ones that Arya considered to be almost forgotten among the inhabitants of Ellesméra. The atmosphere in the city became exhilarated. Talking and laughing voices could often be heard during what felt like the entire night, and no one seemed to be getting much sleep. It was as if they did not need that any more.

"Is everyone in Du Weldenvarden coming here?" Orik asked Arya as the two of them passed a large group of elves, who stood talking and laughing by the side of the path.

It was evening, the last evening before the celebration would begin. It would last for three days, but Arya had been told that no one even remembered the passing of time during the festivities.

"No", Arya said to Orik. "Some of us are too busy to come. They use Scrying Mirrors instead, so that they can see what is going on here."

"They use ... what?" the dwarf asked in a puzzled voice.

"Scrying Mirrors", Arya repeated, explaining about the elves enchanted mirrors and how they could be used to communicate over a large distance.

"Useful", Orik remarked. "The Varden ought to use them as well."

"Yes", said Arya. "Perhaps they ought to. Well, it is late, and we should get some sleep, because we will have few opportunities to do that during the next few days. I shall meet you here tomorrow, and we can go together to the Menoa Tree."

"As you wish", Orik said, and then they parted.

When Arya had returned to her house, she began the process of packing the few things she would need on her journey. Because she supposed that this would be one of the last times she saw her house in a very long time. She would only return here to get her things, and then she would be off, when all the other elves had barely recovered after the feast. That was the perfect time to leave.

And finally, the day when everything was to start arrived. Arya went with Eragon, Saphira and Orik to the Menoa Tree as soon as the sun had vanished below the edge of the world. As they walked, she could hear Eragon muttering nine different spells, all of which were supposed to protect him and Orik from the powers of the elves' magic. His control over the magic and the certainty with which he pronounced the spells showed Arya just how much he had been concentrating on his studies ever since his first day with Oromis.

The Menoa Tree had been decorated with lanterns, which hung on the branches and spread their soft light over the entire clearing, in which elves were already gathering. When Arya looked around at the faces, she found she recognized alarmingly few of them.

Then, a memory suddenly flashed through her mind, and she turned to Eragon and Orik to say:

"Wait here!"

Arya ran back along the paths to Rhunön's house. As she had guessed, the smith was still working on one of her projects, seemingly oblivious to the importance of this day.

After having greeted Rhunön by speaking first, without getting any response, Arya said:

"Rhunön-elda, today is the day of the Agaetí Blödhren."

"Ah!" Rhunön said, reluctantly putting away whatever she had been working on. "Well, I guess that since you won't leave me alone unless I come, I shall do so."

They returned to the Menoa Tree together, where Rhunön greeted Orik in his own language. The two of them immediately started discussing things that were beyond Arya's ability to understand. But since she had no interest in them either, she took instead to watching the crowd, which was now assembling around the gigantic trunk of the tree.

The talking and laughing voices were filling the night, and yet they did not seem to scare away any of the animals. On the contrary, Arya saw several birds landing in the surrounding trees, and wild animals were coming out of the depths of the forest, as if to watch as the elves' most important feast began.

When midnight finally arrived, Islanzadí stepped onto one of the roots of the Menoa Tree, with Blagden sitting on her left shoulder. She raised her left arm, so that it was pointing right at the shining moon above their heads. The entire clearing was still now, but for the occasional russling of leaves made by an animal.

Then, a ball of llight appeared over Islanzadí's raised arm, and she placed it in a hollow in the tree trunk. There it lay, and its light could be seen in the entire clearing.

"It is begun?" Eragon asked, turning to Arya, who could not help laughing as she replied:

"It is begun. And it will end when the werelight expends itself."

Arya would not for the life of her be able to understand how the feast could have lasted for three days. But on the other hand, since she had lost all her sense of time, it could just as well have been much longer than simply three days.

The singing voices of elves, the sound of so many different instruments that it seemed pointless to try and tell them apart, were echoing through the night. People talked, laughed, sang, danced, ate and drank. All the greeting phrases, all the polite expressions that usually were so important, seemed to have been forgotten. Arya soon found herself dancing with a young elf whom she did not even know. She saw Eragon too as she looked over the man's shoulder, dancing with an elf girl who also was unfamiliar to her.

Arya also caught a glimpse of Saphira and Glaedr, flying happily over the crowd. As the elves caught sight of them, they bowed respectfully. So that had not changed. Not even in their wildest exhilaration had the elves forgotten their honour for the dragons.

Arya saw other, stranger elves too. One man, whom she had seen before, but whose name she had now forgotten, had covered his entire body in fur. And she found her dazed mind wondering why anyone would want to do such a thing to themselves.

"That is Blödhgarm", said Islanzadí, who had been standing next to Arya and saw where she was looking. "He is one of the most skilled magicians in Du Weldenvarden. He was also one of the few who survived the Battle of Ilirea."

Time flowed on, and even though the elves were right now oblivious to it, none of them could do anything to stop it. People started presenting their gifts to the celebration. Islanzadí read her poem, and Arya read hers. And to Arya's immense surprise, Eragon had written one too. She was sure that it would not be counted as a masterpiece to those who had read and written much poetry. But it still had something unique which seemed to catch all the listeners.

And finally, the most important moment of the celebration had come. Arya sat next to Eragon, with Saphira on her other side, watching as Islanzadí stepped onto the root of the tree once more. The queen spoke to all the assembled elves, who now were still and silent again. A feeling of solemnity had descended over the crowd now. No laughing or talking could be heard any more.

Then, two twin women stepped into the middle of the clearing. They were naked, and on their bodies was tattooed a dragon. It began on one of the women and ended on the other, so that they must stand close to each other to make it one whole dragon.

The women began to dance, stamping their feet in time. Drums, harps and flutes soon joined in, and the women danced faster. Arya found the melody intoxicating, but she felt no urge to join the dance. Instead, she started, together with all the other assembled elves, to sing. The words were clearly an incantation, but it was one she had never heard before, and she did not know how she could be so familiar with the words as she was now.

Faster and faster the elf women danced, until it seemed to the watchers as though it was the dragon whirling around instead of the bodies It was tattooed upon.

And then, a light passed over the dragon. Raising its wings, it lifted and rose into the air, its tail now the only connection between it and the twins below.

A flame burst from the dragon's mouth, as it let out a wild, savage roar. It remained in the air for some time, staring down at the elves below. Then, its eyes fell upon Eragon.

Arya watched, entranced, as the dragon swooped right down towards Eragon, its eyes constantly fixed upon his face. Something seemed to be happening between them, though none of the others were able to sense what it was.

Reaching out, the dragon then touched its nose to Eragon's Gedwëy Ignasia. A spark shot from the dragon and right into eragon's body, and he fell, screaming, to the ground.

The sound seemed, for some reason, to wake Arya's senses. Throwing herself forwards, she caught Eragon before he hit the ground. Someone tried to grab her by the arm, but she twisted away, regardless of who it had been.

Carrying Eragon in her arms, Arya pushed her way through the crowd of elves, running away into the silence of the night. Behind her, she could hear Saphira roaring, and she reached out towards the blue dragon's mind, calling:

- Saphira, stay where you are! I will return soon. Stay where you are and help the others finish the spell! Eragon is safe with me.

For a moment, it seemed as though Saphira was about to protest. But then, she said in a low voice:

- As you wish, Arya. And thank you for your help.

Arya carried Eragon back to his tree house, where she laid him on his bed and wrapped a blanket around him. She knew she should return then, but she lingered, uncertain. Eragon's face seemed to have changed, she realized as she looked down at it. He looked ... he looked like an elf, with all those features that so easily could tell them apart from humans. Did that mean ...

But no, she alone could not work out what it meant, what the dragons had done to the Rider that was everyone's hope now. So she turned and raced back to the Menoa Tree.

An hour passed. To Arya, it was an hour of anxiety and concern. To the other elves, it was an hour of astonishment. For no one had ever seen anything like this happen before, not as far back as anyone could remember. All of them kept on talking, exchanging questions and speculations.

But Arya did not join their conversation. She stayed with Saphira and her mother. She had thought of telling them what changes she had noticed when looking at Eragon, but then she had thought better of it. Saphira would learn by contacting Eragon in his mind, and Islanzadí was to find out only when Eragon decided to let her know.

But the werelight was gone now. The time had come for Arya to leave the forest. She could not deny it. Not even to herself.

"Mother", she said quietly. "I must leave now. I cannot wait. If I do not meet Eragon ... then I shall have to talk to him later about what the dragons did to him. I cannot stay for longer than this. Till we meet again, mother, may the stars watch over you."

"Over you too, Arya", her mother said.

And then, Arya turned and walked away into the forest.

She did not know where she was going, did not know why she was walking straight into the forest like this. But she knew that she must do it.

As she walked, Arya suddenly became aware that someone was following her. It sounded like an elf. For the footsteps were light, and the person made hardly any sound as he glided between the trees, which were standing so thickly here that any human would have made a noise. But when Arya glanced over her shoulder, she saw that it was Eragon.

She quickly turned her gaze forwards again. But oddly enough, she made no effort to try and walk away from him. She supposed he had come to say farewell, and she would not prevent him from doing that.

Arya stopped at the edge of a clearing, far away from the Menoa Tree and all the other elves, her eyes fixed upon the bright stars that gleamed above her head. Behind her, she sensed that Eragon had stopped too, and she turned around.

"Is that you, Eragon?" Arya found herself whisper, even though she knew the answer perfectly well.

"Aye", he said.

"What have they done to you?"

"I know not."

Together, they wandered through the forest, until they came to a place where the trees were standing so thickly together, that they seemed to be defending the clearing in their midst from any intruder.

Arya and Eragon stood perfectly still beside each other. How close they were now. How silent the night was. How far away all time, all reason, seemed to be.

"How tall the trees", Eragon whispered suddenly, "how bright the stars, and how beautiful are you, Arya Svit-Kona."

Arya stiffened, feeling how his words broke through all the barriers of defence she had built within her. If the circumstances had been any different, she would have turned right now and left him standing there.

But that, she was unable to do. All she could do was whisper, with as much warning in her voice as she could muster at the moment:

"Eragon ..."

But of course, he would not listen. He never listened to warnings, Arya realized suddenly. The thought made her want to laugh, but she suppressed the urge.

"Arya, I'll do anything to win your hand", Eragon said. "I would build a place for you with nothing but my bare hands. I would ..."

A sense of clarity suddenly broke through the mist in Arya's head then, and she asked:

"Will you stop pursuing me? Can you promise me that?"

Arya stared right into Eragon's eyes, trying to force him to understand what was so painfully obvious to her.

"Eragon, this cannot be", she said finally, when he refused to answer her question. "You are young and I am old, and that shall never change."

"Do you feel nothing for me?" Eragon asked, now with a tone of despair in his voice.

Do you feel nothing for me? The question she had wished so desperately that he would not ask. The question Eragon himself knew that he should not have asked. The question she felt she must give him an answer to.

"My feelings for you", Arya said, "are those of a friend and nothing more. I am grateful to you for rescuing me from Gil'ead, and I find your company pleasant. That is all. Relinquish this quest of yours - it will only bring you heartache - and find someone of your own age to spend the long years with."

"How can you be so cruel?" Eragon asked, tears now visible in his eyes.

"I am not cruel, but kind", Arya said. "You and I were not meant for each other."

Just like Linnëa and the man, she thought, but did not voice that to Eragon.

"You could give me your memories, and then I would have the same amount of wisdom and experience as you", Eragon suggested.

The words caused Arya to, once again, understand just how strong his feelings were. But also, how little he still knew. He was a child in the eyes of most elves. And she knew what she must say.

"It would be an abomination", she said, her voice suddenly filled with a new strength. "Hear me well, Eragon. This cannot, nor ever shall, be. And until you master yourself, our friendship must cease to exist, for your emotions do nothing but distract us from our duty. Goodbye, Eragon Shadeslayer."

And with those final words, Arya turned and walked away, leaving Eragon with tears still falling down his cheeks.

A/N: Poor Eragon ...

Well, first off, I'm just going to reply to some reviews. I don't usually do that in the chapter, but I thought I'd do it now.

Lady Rian and Arcturuswinter: Thanks for pointing out that spelling mistake! I try to check those before I post, but ... sometimes I'm not so successful.

To my other reviewers: Thanks so much!

And secondly, I'd just like to ask if anyone would want to be my Beta reader. I don't even know if you can ask for one in the middle of a story like this, but ... anyway. Because, like I said, I sometimes tend to miss spelling errors and capital letters, and it would be great if someone else could correct them for me.

That was all. Hope you liked the chapter!


	23. In the city of Aberon

Hello again!

It's been a while since I updated, and it will probably be some time before I can post the next chapter too. I just had to say that.

And now, thanks to all my reviewers! I would respond to them, but that would make the chapter seem so ... well, long. So let's just move on with the story!

Chapter 23: In the city of Aberon

Madness. Complete madness. That was exactly what her conversation with Eragon, hidden away in that starry clearing, had been. The only excuse she could find, as she looked back at it again and again in her mind, was the state they had all been in during that one magical night.

However, not all of what they had said had been complete nonsense. The last words she had said had, of course, been perfectly true, even though she found she hated herself for admitting it.

Arya thought about this again and again as she ran on. She had left the vast forest of oaks, pines and all the other trees which were so familiar to her that very morning. Now, she had once again entered the world of madness, where a war that she and her companions must try to stop was raging on. And she had not got the slightest idea of what had been going on during her time in Du Weldenvarden. She had been as isolated from the rest of the world as she could possibly be, and she berated herself for it.

Raising her eyes, Arya watched as the sun made its usual way across the sky, feeling how she got more and more alert and vigilant with every minute. She kept expecting something to happen, something unexpected which she would immediately have to deal with.

But nothing like that occurred. The fields around her lay vast, empty and silent, but for the occasional flutter of wings as birds soared over her head. The world seemed so peaceful. The air was warm and mild, for the summer had just arrived to Alagaësia.

Under normal circumstances, Arya would have extended her consciousness to feel the life of the nature that existed all around her. But she could not afford to do that. The barriers around her mind must, once again, be complete.

Just before she had left the protecting trees behind her, Arya had created several wards to prevent anyone, friends as well as enemies, from scrying her. Of course, that would also make it impossible for the Varden or Islanzadí to communicate with her in that way, but she knew she needed the protection. Especially, she thought, after what had happened to her in Gil'ead.

During the days that had passed since the Agaetí Blödhren, Arya had done nothing but run, and she had given herself as little time to stay and rest as she could, without getting too tired. She wanted to reach the capital of Surda, wanted to find out what had been going on, wanted to help. And she wanted to get away from Ellesméra, so that she would not have to be reminded so painfully of all that had happened during her time in the city.

Once, Arya heard the sound of hooves thundering against the ground. She ran off the road and threw herself down behind some bushes, and watched from there as a group of men came riding past. It was hard to tell if they were from the Varden or the Empire, but they were not at all as many as Arya would have expected them to be. Silently, she waited for them to pass.

And in that way, the days crept by, one by one, although they were so similar to each other inArya's mind that she even forgot to count them. When she finally could make out the city of Aberon before her, she was both tired and a little nervous. Tired because of the seemingly never-ending journey, during which she had been so constantly alert for any sign of something unusual, that she had not even been able to relax properly in the evenings. And nervous because of what she would have to do, and what she would find out.

Before she came within sight of the soldiers guarding the gates to Aberon, Arya turned to walk away from the road. There, in the shelter of a few low bushes, she changed to other clothes. She did not want to reach the castle looking like she had done during her journey. A lonely woman, running wildly along the roads like she had done, had surely attracted enough attention, even though she had barely met a single person on her way.

The two men guarding the gates stared at Arya with suspicious eyes as she passed them, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords. But to her relief, they did nothing to try and prevent her from entering the city. But even so, irritation flashed through her as she looked at their stirn faces.

However, reaching the Varden was not going to be that easy. When Arya neared the castle in which king Orrin lived, she found her way blocked by six powerful soldiers. She stopped, realizing that she had not at all thought of how she was going to get into the castle. She had been so absorbed by other things, that she had completely forgotten what really was the most important of all.

"And where do you think you are going?" one of the men, who seemed to be the leader of the group, demanded. "King Orrin only allows audiences once a week, and this is not the right day. You have no permission ..."

"I have come", said Arya, restraining the impatience which was rapidly growing within her, "because I am in connection with the Varden, and I would like to meet Nasuada."

The man uttered a laugh that arya considered completely unnecessary. She found her hand moving down to the hilt of her own sword, all the time conscious that she did not even want to fight these men. They were her allies, not her enemies.

But the tone they spoke in, and the way they looked at her, made her old frustration rise again. She had never, despite all the years she had spent with the Varden, been fully able to understand all that humans did, and this was one of those things. If she said a thing in Du Weldenvarden, it was quite natural for people to believe her. But if she said a thing here, it would immediately be questioned.

"And what reasons do I have to believe that?" the man asked, confirming what Arya herself had just been thinking. "There are plenty of people who would like to visit the castle, and this is just the sort of excuse that ..."

"I shall give you a reason for believing that what Arya says is true", came a quiet voice from behind the men. "I know her."

The voice was undoubtedly Nasuada's, but it had changed. Arya stared over the heads of the men and saw her, Ajihad's daughter, walking at a quick pace down the stairs leading up to the castle's doors. She wore a simple, plain dress, and she looked exhausted. But still, there was something about her that had changed dramatically since Arya left for Ellesméra. Now, Nasuada seemed to have an authority that she had definitely not possessed before, and she spoke as though expecting the soldiers to llisten without questions.

"You ... know her?" the man repeated, evidently not at all satisfied with the explanation.

"Yes, I do", replied Nasuada. "We have been waiting for Arya to return from Ellesméra."

The effect on the man was immediate. His gaze darted swiftly from Nasuada to arya, and then back to the Varden's leader again. He seemed unsure how he should handle this, and glanced swiftly at each of the other men in turn, as if expecting them to help him out of this situation.

Finally, he said:

"I shall speak to my king about it."

"Am I to enter then?" Arya asked.

"Yes", the soldier responded. "Yes, you are."

"Thank you."

As they left the mercilessly hot air behind them and came into the castle, Arya studied Nasuada's face more closely. It wore the unmistakable signs of the burden she was now carrying. But at the same time, Arya could not remember the last time she saw anyone so determinate, and she knew that Nasuada would not allow herself to give up until it was quite clear that the Varden was absolutely defeated. The thought increased her own strength.

"Was it your intention to tell them that I came from Ellesméra?" Arya could not help asking, when they had been walking in silence for a couple of minutes.

"Oh!" Nasuada said, her lips twisting into a barely recognizable smile. "Yes, it was. I hope you do not mind, but it was the quickest - and the only - way I could find to get you out of that."

"You would not have needed to ...", Arya started, but Nasuada cut across her:

"I know."

She said nothing more, but Arya needed no explanations. She knew why Nasuada had done it, and she was thankful for the help.

Then, she let her eyes wander around the corridor they were following, and she noticed that a little girl was walking just behind Nasuada. She seemed to be no more than maybe four years of age, and Arya wondered how she could be allowed to be out in the corridors like this.

"Who ...", Arya began, but fell silent.

She had just noticed the girl's face. Her eyes were strangely violet, staring intensely at everything around her. But that was not what astonished Arya the most. In the girl's forehead was a white mark. The same mark that Eragon had on his right palm. The Gedwëy Ignasia.

Arya stopped dead. She knew who this girl was. But why would the child whom Eragon had tried to bless in Farthen Dûr, and whom Saphira then in some strange way had marked with the Gedwëy Ignasia, be following Nasuada like this? What ... what was she able to do that no one else could? What had Eragon done to her?

"Oh!" said Nasuada, who had stopped as soon as Arya did and was now looking from her to the girl. "I forgot to tell you. This is ..."

But before Nasuada could finish the sentence, the girl spoke, and her voice did not sound the least like Arya had expected it to. It was not the voice of a child, but of a much older person.

"Nasuada", the girl said, "can you not let me introduce myself for once, as I am absolutely capable of doing that without your help?"

Without giving Nasuada any time to respond, the girl went on:

"My name is Elva. Everyone calls me 'Shining brow', and I do not think I need to explain to you why. So let us move on to the more important things! I am the child whom Eragon was supposed to bless, although he did something ... wrong. Quite wrong. Now, I can feel everyone's pain, and I must do anything I can to end their suffering. Yes, I know your pain too. And your fears."

She fell silent there, contemplating Arya's face a bit more carefully, before exclaiming:

"So annoying! In times like these, I would have suspected that everyone had more important problems than ..."

She glanced at Nasuada, who was standing there with her mouth open, as if she had just been prepared to say something.

"But let's not talk too openly about that now!" Elva finished, before turning away from Arya to stare out of a window beside them.

Arya was speechless. She had wanted to interrupt Elva, to silence her in any way she could, but now found that not a single word would escape her lips. It was as if the world around her had just twisted, and she was struggling to understand how it had come about.

Elva knew, was all she could think. She knew something about her, about Arya, that she definitely should not know. No one should know ... what? What had elva been talking about? Arya was not even sure herself, but the girl's words left her feeling both small, unsettled and unknowing. Unknowing, even of her own mind.

"Arya?" Nasuada said, and it sounded to Arya as though her voice came from somewhere quite far away.

With an effort, she recalled herself to the reality, turned and found that Nasuada's eyes were resting upon her with a strange expression in them.

"What ... what did she ...", Arya began, but realized that she did not know what she had been intending to ask.

"Elva says things like that to everyone", Nasuada told her. "But please, come on! We cannot stand here in the middle of the corridor! People will get curious, and that is the last we need."

As they started walking again, Arya tried to think, tried to return to the present, tried to remember what she had been intending to say to Nasuada once the two of them met. Because she had been planning it, had chosen what to tell the Varden from her journey and what to keep secret.

But now, she suddenly could not remember it. Elva's words seemed to have settled in her mind, pushing away everything else and drawing her attention back to the riddle the girl had given her, however much she struggled not to think about it.

No, she was too tired. Too much had happened. There were too many questions. She needed to rest, even though she knew how little time there was for any of them to do such things.

She looked out of the window. The sun was beginning to set. Tomorrow, she could tell Nasuada all she needed to know, and Nasuada could tell her what had been going on while she was gone. But not now. Now, she would rest. Rest, and think over what she had already learnt.


	24. Explanations

And here is chapter 24, after longer than I'd thought ... as always. It seems to me that updating regularly is not at all as easy as I thought when I started writing fanfiction.

Oh well, never mind! Anyway, I know that this chapter will probably be quite boring to you all, and I'm sorry to say that the next one will be as well. But I need to write them to explain all that's going on in the story, as you can probably tell from the title. So, if you would just give me a few reviews, I'd be so delighted, and I'd know that you have not stopped reading this story ...

So, as I often say, here goes:

Chapter 24: Explanations

The sun rose slowly above the capital of Surda, and its light was the first thing Arya saw as she returned from her waking dreams the following morning. While she got up, dressed and made her way through the corridors of the castle, she thought about yesterday's events. And she wondered what was going to happen next.

Before, she had been certain that even if she had been gone from the Varden, she would be able to learn and understand all that they had done. But for some reason, her meeting with Elva last night had made her think that perhaps it was not going to be that easy. She tried to shake off the thought, to tell herself that Elva had nothing to do with the war against Galbatorix. But she was not altogether successful.

The sound of running footsteps from behind her caused Arya to turn around. A young boy had come up to her, saying with a tone of uncertainty in his voice:

"Lady Arya ... king Orrin wants you to come to his conference room."

"Ah!" said Arya, who had been expecting something like this. "I shall come."

The room, to which she was guided by the young boy, was large, with a table occupying the centre of it. Around the table sat Nasuada, king Orrin, whom Arya had seen briefly yesterday, the Council of Elders, and a few other men. She reckoned they were Orrin's advisers.

Everyone looked up when Arya entered, and Orrin said:

"Arya."

"Sire", Arya responded, dipping her head, before sitting down in the only chair left at the table

A soft, brief laugh made Arya glance around the room again, looking for the person who had uttered the sound. Elva was standing just behind Nasuada's chair. She was so short, that Arya at first had not noticed her. A flicker of unease shot through her, as she wondered what had made the girl laugh like that.

"So", said Orrin. "Now that everyone is here, let us begin! We have gathered here today to exchange information, which we are all in need of right now. And one question that I am sure we all want an answer to ... where is Eragon, the Dragon Rider? Nasuada has talked a lot about him, and I am aware that he went to Ellesméra to finish his education as a Rider. But where is he now?"

"Eragon", said Arya, collecting herself and fighting to keep her face impassive, "is still in Ellesméra."

Orrin was silent. Then, he suddenly shouted:

"Still in Ellesméra? Is he completely out of his mind? There is a war going on here! Doesn't he ..."

"Orrin!" Nasuada burst out. "Think of what you are saying!"

Orrin turned towards her with a both furious and incredulous expression, and Arya could tell that Nasuada had gone too far.

"Nasuada", Orrin said, more quietly now, but with the same intensity in his words as before. "Have we not discussed this countless times before? You have no right to tell me what to say or not say. I assumed that we had both agreed on this point, and ..."

"So we have", said Nasuada, the tone of weariness now stronger in her voice. "I only said that perhaps we should listen to what Arya has to say before we explode in anger. Can we agree to do that?"

Orrin glared at her, and it was clear that they had held this discussion many times before. But when he finally spoke, he appeared ready to accept the truth in Nasuada's words.

"Yes, lady Nasuada, we can", he said, returning his gaze to Arya. "Then, tell me this. Why is Eragon still in Ellesméra, when he knows that his presence is needed here?"

Thinking that the answer ought to be obvious to everyone, Arya said:

"Because he has yet to complete his training. The Riders of old had decades to learn the things Eragon has to master in only a few weeks. Therefor, I believe we ought to give him all the time we can."

Taking a deep breath, Orrin said:

"Then I assume that you do not know of Galbatorix's army."

"No", Arya responded, wondering what in the world he was talking about. "There are few things which can reach Ellesméra, especially now."

"Then I shall tell you", king Orrin said, a grim expression on his face as he looked at her. "Two weeks ago, one of our men in Urû'baen saw how an army came past the city. He was not sure of exactly how many they were, but there could have been as many as a hundred thousand soldiers. They were on their way south."

Arya stared, feeling exactly like she had done when Ajihad told her about the attack on Farthen Dûr, which now felt like ages ago. She had always assumed that Galbatorix's army was large. No, she had not even needed to assume it, because she had known. They had all known it, but this ...

This was too much. And it was not right. How had he been able to gather such a large army without their knowledge? There was something here that she needed to understand.

Well, she thought. At least, she understood Orrin's wish for Eragon's help. And she understood his desperation too. They had all thought that they had more time than this.

"But ...", Arya began, forcing her thoughts into order again. "When did you learn about this?"

"Only a few days ago", replied Orrin.

"And ... have you decided anything since then?"

This time, it was Nasuada who answered.

"I have sent a message to Hrothgar", she said. "He and the dwarves will try to assist us, but we are not sure if they will have time to get here before the army does."

Time, thought arya. That was all it depended on now, it seemed. If they had more time, Eragon would be able to finish his training, the dwarves - and even the elves - would be able to assist in the oncoming battle. But they had not got that much time.

She stared down at the map of Alagaësia that was lying on the table in front of her, trying to calculate the distance the Empire's army needed to cross. Then she thought of how long it would take the dwarves to get here.

And suddenly, for absolutely no reason at all, something else flashed through Arya's mind. She remembered Eragon telling her about his vision, when they had been on their way to Ellesméra. He had told her about a battle, two armies that were confronting each other. What if it was the oncoming battle he had seen? Then it would mean that it was not going to take place here, in Aberon, but somewhere else.

She tried to recall more of Eragon's words, but so much had happened since then, and she had not thought about this at all since the day they had discussed it. As a result, she found that her efforts were in vain.

"This discussion is getting us nowhere", Orrin announced, and Arya pulled her thoughts back to the meeting. "We can't defend ourselves without the dwarves. Nor can we hope to win if Eragon is not with us. We shall just have to ..."

"But if we move somewhere else?" Arya suggested, unable to keep her idea to herself any more. "If we do not try to defend Aberon, but confront the army somewhere else?"

Orrin looked at her.

"Where?" he demanded, something that looked like hope suddenly visible in his eyes. "Where would we do that, do you mean?"

"I don't know", Arya said helplessly, spreading her hands. "I do not know that! But it is the only plan I can think of that might work."

"True", one of Orrin's men said. "You have a point in that. We shall take it into consideration. The only problem if we decide to do so is how we are going to move the army so quickly. We need to ..."

"Yes, but let us not discuss all those details now!" Orrin exclaimed, slapping his hand down on the table. "First we must decide if, and in that case where, we shall move."

He fell silent there, letting out a long sigh. Arya looked at him and understood that he had been hoping for her to find the answer he had been searching for.

But all she had managed to tell them, it seemed, was that Eragon was not yet ready to join them. It felt like such a useless piece of information. At least, it had done nothing to raise anyone's spirits.

The meeting ended shortly afterwards. Until they got more information, or any of them managed to think of a good plan, there was no point in discussing the war.

Arya was just about to leave the conference room when Nasuada spoke to her:

"Arya, you told me yesterday that you wanted to speak with me in private."

"Yes", said Arya, who had not thought about that since the morning. "Yes, I did. There are a few things that we need to discuss."

"Then, follow me to my private rooms. There, I can promise you that no one shall disturb us, for I do not allow that."

"A good idea", Arya agreed, and the two of them set off down the corridor.

In Nasuada's room, everything was still and silent, for not even Elva was there now. Arya and Nasuada sat next to each other, and Arya stared out of the window for a while, composing her thoughts.

During all her years with the Varden, she had never allowed anyone, apart from Brom, to know about her position among her own people. Because, like she had said to Eragon when he first learnt about it, it had not been any important. Among the humans and dwarves, she was the queen's ambassador and nothing more.

But now, it seemed as though there was no point in hiding the fact any longer. And besides, Nasuada would find out about it as soon as the elves joined the Varden. Arya could not tell everyone in her mother's army to ignore her status.

Therefor, speaking slowly and choosing her words with care, she explained to Nasuada about who she really was. She spoke little about her relationship with her mother, and told instead of how she had struggled to keep this information secret from all the other leaders of the Varden.

It was a strange feeling to her. To sit here with Nasuada, explaining about something she had promised herself to never speak about to anyone outside of DU Weldenvarden. Things are really changing now, she thought. And not all of them are within my control.

After she had finished speaking, Nasuada was silent for a whole minute, contemplating Arya's face. Then, she said:

"So that is why Islanzadí withdrew her support from the Varden after you were captured?"

"It is", Arya confirmed.

"And that is why you had to return to Ellesméra?"

"Partly. However, I would have done it in any case, seeing as someone had to escort Eragon to the city."

"Yes. It does indeed make sense."

Nasuada turned her head slowly, to stare out of the window beside her. She seemed as lost in thoughts as Arya herself could often get. However, she seemed not to be angry with Arya for concealing this information for such a long time, something which was a great relief to her. She did not want to quarrel or argue with Nasuada about a thing like this. Not now.

"I ...", Nasuada began finally, turning back to look at Arya. "I would not have suspected this, even though I perhaps should have done so. Did ... didn't anyone know ..."

"No", Arya said at once.

"Not even ..."

Nasuada hesitated for a while, then went on:

"Not even Angela?"

Arya did not immediately respond. She had not considered the possibility that Angela might know about her identity, for the two of them had never mentioned it. But there was such a lot of things which the herbalist knew about, and Arya realized that it would not come as a surprise to her if ...

"I don't know ...", Arya murmured, still deep in thoughts.

"Forgive me", Nasuada said quickly. "I should not have asked. But you have given me a lot to think about, and that made me careless."

"I understand", Arya said, feeling that she had nothing to be angry with Nasuada for. "And I too have got a lot to think about now. I had no idea that we were in such danger!"

She got to her feet, continuing:

"I should go. We can talk more later. Now, both of us have things that need to be done."

And with that, Arya turned and left Nasuada's room, still with the same thoughts and questions chasing each other wildly in her mind.


	25. To the Burning Plains

Quick update, this one ... Surprise, even to me ...

But anyway, this will be the last of these ... maybe a bit boring chapters, because after this, things will start happening again. I can promise that, seeing as I've already got that chapter almost done ...

And huge thanks to those who have reviewed! I really can't believe that this story has actually got 81 reviews.

So, well, continue reading and reviewing!

Chapter 25: To the Burning Plains

In Arya's opinion, nothing happened that could change their situation as the days continued, even though more and more news about the advancing army arrived every day. They talked, they discussed plans and strategies, and they got nowhere with it. Usually, their meetings ended up in an argument, with someone, usually Orrin, shouting at the others to just be quiet and listen. Arya used to say little during these meetings, but continued instead to ponder on her idea to move the whole army somewhere else. Of course, she knew that Orrin's adviser had been right in telling her that it would not be an easy task. But the memory of her talk with Eragon still remained in her mind, and it was as if it was calling for her attention.

However, these apparently boring meetings had another effect on Arya as well, one that she appreciated highly. They forced her thoughts to keep to the present, instead of lingering on her past. But during the evenings, when she was not exhausted from the events of the day, she still was just as unable as always to keep the questions away from her.

What was happening back in Ellesméra right now? How was Eragon doing, now that he did not have her around to distract him from his studies? Had her departure made things better, as she had believed? Or had it had the opposite effect? Had it caused Eragon to pay her even more attention than before?

The last thought was always the one that made her twist back and forth in her bed for what felt like hours on end, with a feeling like she was about to explode growing within her.

It was during one of these evenings that Arya finally gave up, realizing just how pointless it was to try and sleep with all these thoughts rushing through her. So, putting on her clothes again, she walked out of her room and wandered aimlessly through the now mostly silent castle.

The day had been even hotter than the previous ones, and the air inside felt unbearably warm and stifling. Arya, who was used to a much colder climate than this, and who had spent considerably little time in Surda, found this more and more annoying with every day. Wiping the sweat off her face with an irritated movement, she turned into another corridor, wondering how anyone would be able to do anything useful in this warmth.

"I thought you would come earlier."

The voice suddenly breaking the silence caused Arya to spin round. Angela had walked up to her, and as usual, Arya had neither heard, seen or in any other way sensed the herbalist approaching.

"What ... what do you mean?" Arya asked, still startled and unsure what to say.

"Well, I've been watching you ever since you came here", Angela explained. "And this is, I must say, the first unusual thing you've done since arriving. Well, that in itself is unusual, of course, but apart from that ..."

Arya could not help a small laugh, at the same time as she sighed. She ought to have known that Angela would be here, and that her curiosity would force her to follow Arya around wherever she went. It seemed as though the herbalist possessed some kind of natural interest in Arya, one that she was still quite unable to understand.

But before Arya had time to think further along that line of thoughts, Angela said:

"Now, I suppose I ought to ask you something about how your journey to Ellesméra was, but that seems quite ... pointless to me. Nasuada has told me what you told her, and since you won't tell me anything else, we could just leave that subject, couldn't we?"

Taken aback by this sudden turn in the cconversation, Arya said:

"We could. But then ... if you did not want to discuss Ellesméra, why did you bother to follow me when most people ought to have gone to bed?"

"Yes ...", Angela murmured. "Yes, that is an interesting question ..."

She fell silent there, appearing just as lost in own thoughts as Arya could get. But Arya was sure that the seeress just did not 'feel like answering her question'.

"So", Angela said finally. "What were we speaking about? Oh yes, unusual things. Well, I did hear you were the one to suggest that we leave this city and move somewhere else, but the others have not decided yet."

"True", Arya responded, wondering how Angela could know about such things, which so few people were supposed to have heard about.

"And I guess Orrin was the one who was most skeptical about the idea?"

The question took Arya by surprise, mostly because Angela was right. Orrin and his men had been the ones who seemed most doubtful. Arya had thought before that it was because of all the risks, but now another theory occurred to her. After all, Orrin's repeated arguments with Nasuada had let Arya know exactly how fond he was of his own power, and how much he disliked being ordered to do anything. What if he saw her suggestion as an order? The very thought irritated her, although she supposed that it did make sense.

"Anyway", Angela said, when Arya had not answered her last question. "Where were you intending to move the army?"

Laughing briefly at how the question had been formulated, Arya responded:

"I ... I do not know. I just thought about it because ..."

She hesitated. For some reason, it felt silly to draw Eragon's vision into this conversation. But if she wanted to discuss it with anyone, it would have to be with Angela.

Having decided that, Arya told the herbalist all she could remember Eragon telling her during their journey to Ellesméra. At once, she could sense how Angela's interest snapped towards the subject.

"A vision, you say?" she asked when Arya had finished. "A vision showing a battle on a plain ..."

She gazed into the distance for a while, her usual cheerful expression turned into that of thoughtfulness and consideration.

"You don't mean the Burning Plains, do you?" she asked.

The Burning Plains, thought Arya. No, that was not where she would have wanted them to move. It was a plain where, a long time ago, dragons had been fighting. Their fire had burned the area, and it was still burning. All plants and trees had long since been killed, and it was dangerous for any living being to spend a longer time there.

Feeling a shudder run down her spine, Arya said:

"No, I did not mean the Burning Plains."

"I see", said angela, giving her a small smile. "Well, I suppose we should be sensible and go to bed, even though I hate that word. Sensible! But I'll see you later."

And with that, she turned and hurried away through the corridor.

Surprised at the sudden ending of this conversation, Arya returned to her room, still thinking about all that had been said.

The next morning, when she entered the conference room to participate in yet another of these pointless meetings, Arya noticed at once that something was different. Or rather, she realized, that Orrin was acting differently. The king was sitting up straight in his chair, a kind of determination showing in his face. It was almost as if he was preparing himself to confess something to the assembled people, a thought that for some reason amused Arya.

"Welcome, everyone", Orrin began once they were all seated around the table. "I shall make this brief. I know that we have not received any more news about the Empire, but yet I have summoned you here. That is because I have made my decision. If you all agree, I do think that we ought to follow Arya's suggestion and leave this city, for Hrothgar and the dwarves will not be able to reach us here before Galbatorix's army. And without assistance, as you are all aware, we are certain to lose this battle."

Silence reigned in the room after Orrin's little speech. It was like Arya had guessed. After their king had spoken, none of Orrin's advisers were ready to say anything else. Nor did the Council of Elders. Their decision had been made.

As she thought this, a quiet feeling of childish satisfaction flashed through Arya. Now, she thought, perhaps I have managed to accomplish at least one thing. And now, perhaps we will be able to do more than just sit here, waiting for the army to come.

And Arya was right. For during the next few weeks, a wild sort of activity broke out in the city of Aberon. Men from both the Varden and Surda's own army were summoned and prepared, food and weapons were collected and stored, and a thousand other things were done. As Arya joined this activity, she felt that some of these things ought to have been ready earlier, though she never mentioned this aloud. Not even to Nasuada.

Meanwhile, she began to notice that her observations concerning Orrin had been true. He did have a strong wish to maintain his power, and he continue to argue with Nasuada about things that in Arya's opinion where quite meaningless at the moment. And she realized that if he went on like this, that would be a problem to them all later on.

Of course, Arya had been involved in this sort of activity many times before, but she still found it just as frustrating every time she was swept into it again. Time just never seemed to move quickly enough, where as it at the same time felt as though they needed several more days to accomplish all that needed to be done.

But eventually, the time came for them to depart. it was a mercilessly hot day, with the sun glaring down from the sky at the army, which was rapidly assembling outside the gates to Aberon. The weather displeased Arya somewhat, because she knew that they would all be much more effective if it was colder. But what had she expected?

However, as she left the castle and walked through the streets of Aberon, she felt a mild breeze blowing on her face. It could not be called cool, she thought, quickening her stride. But it would keep some of the worst heat away.

Arya had decided to remain as unseen as possible during this journey, for she could find no reason to announce her presence to the Empire by riding at the very front of the army. Therefor, she positioned herself in the midst of a group of soldiers, all of whom were talking in much louder voices than what was actually necessary to make oneself heard.

"Good morning", came a voice from behind, and Arya turned to see Angela riding up to her. "I suppose that's a quite accurate description too. At least judging by your expression."

Arya could not help a faint smile, though she was sure that Angela was the only one to notice. It was true that she was happy to be moving again, but she had been trying to conceal that from the others. Not that it really mattered if they had known, but still ...

Well, she thought. I should have known better than to conceal it from Angela. As always.

At the same time as Arya thought this, there came a shout from the front of the army. And then, they set off, with the horses' hooves thundering against the ground, their arms waving farewell towards the city behind them, and their voices shouting things that were too mingled with each other for Arya to make out. They were on their way.


	26. A new hope

Hi again!

Well, all I want to say with this author's note is simply: read on, because this chapter is better than the previous one! Much better ... or so I think.

Chapter 26: A new hope

Orange, unnatural clouds of smoke were drifting across the sky above her head. Beneath her feet, the ground was cracked and burned, and she did not even need to reach out her mind to tell that all life that had ones existed here was now gone. Only a few metres ahead of her, Arya could see a flame shooting up towards the sky, causing her to jump in surprise, even though this was far from the first time she saw that happening.

The Burning Plains, she thought again, just like she had done in Aberon. It had not been her suggestion to settle here, but Nasuada, Orrin and most of the others had thought it was the best place to meet the Empire's army. She supposed that she could have made some objections, but she was unwilling to do so when her reasons for disliking this place were so vague.

But, nevertheless, she hated it. She hated those clouds of smoke, which could at times drift so low over their heads, that it became hard for them to breathe. She hated all those cracks in the ground, which she was sometimes forced to leap over. And, most of all, she hated that feeling of death, which kept pressing at her consciousness from all sides.

The Varden had been here for little over a week now, and three days ago, Galbatorix's army had arrived as well. Since then, there had come one messenger to the Varden, asking them to surrender. But Nasuada had responded that they would never do so.

A faint smile crossed Arya's face as she thought about it. Did Galbatorix really think that they would surrender? She guessed no. Probably, it had not even been Galbatorix taking the decision to send a message to the Varden.

Arya shook her head, trying to turn her thoughts away from the subject, since it always made her so grim and irritated. Instead, she attempted to calm herself by thinking about the gardens of Tialdarí Hall. Over the years, she had found that thinking about her home in Ellesméra was the best way to calm her mind, stop her racing thoughts and make her body relax.

However, now it also reminded her of Eragon and Saphira, and the relaxation left her. Had they heard about the advancing army? Nasuada had sent a messenger to Ceris with news about it, but whether it had reached Ellesméra yet, arya was not sure.

With a feeling of thankfulness, Arya spotted Nasuada's red pavilion ahead of her. She had been summoned there to discuss their plans, something they did almost every day.

Nasuada was alone in the tent when Arya entered, but for Elva, who was standing in one corner, as she usually did. Arya glanced over at her, but then returned her gaze quickly to Nasuada again. Those violet, intense eyes still made her just as uneasy as when she had met them for the first time.

"Arya!" Nasuada said, turning away from the map that was lying on the table to greet her.

Just like Arya herself, Nasuada wore an armour, announcing more clearly than words how ready she was for battle. It was somewhat amusing that no one dared question Nasuada's right to participate in the battle now, as they had done before, when she was only the daughter of Ajihad.

Nasuada opened her mouth to say something, but before she could even begin, there came an interruption. A commotion had broken out outside. Arya could hear shouting voices and the sound of running footsteps passing swiftly, and she instantly reached for her sword. But something made her hand stop before it touched the hilt. She could hear nothing that told of approaching soldiers - no triumphant screams, no sounds of swords being unsheathed, but only apprehensive voices. She strained her ears to try and catch what they were saying.

"It's him! It's Eragon Shadeslayer and Saphira! They've returned to help us!"

"Oh, such nonsense! I bet that was just another cloud you saw."

"It wasn't! I'm absolutely sure it was them! At least, it was a dragon."

"Do you think ... Galbatorix ..."

"I don't know."

Thoughts and emotions immediately flooded Arya's mind, before she had time to stop them. Eragon and Saphira! How could they be here already? Even if Nasuada's message had reached them, they ought to have finished their training first. That was why they had come to Ellesméra in the first place. And what if it was not them? What if that third man had been right, and it was Galbatorix who was approaching? Then, Arya knew, there would be no hope for any of them.

"Arya?" Nasuada said, speaking in an urgent voice that forced arya to pull herself together again. "Arya, do you think it is them? Eragon and Saphira. Can they have returned so soon?"

"I ... I don't know. We shall just have to wait and see."

Nasuada nodded her head, and the three of them stood in silence, waiting to see what would happen next.

After only a couple of minutes, the entrance flap to the tent was swept aside. And there stood Eragon, Orik and, behind them, Saphira. The blue dragon was so large by now, that she could only stick her head into the pavilion.

However, Arya's attention was focusing on Eragon, rather than Saphira. He looked just like he had done during that dreadful, yet wonderful night of the Agaetí Blödhren. And now, he seemed also proud, walking with a certainty that he had definitely not possessed when leaving Farthen Dûr.

For a brief moment, Eragon seemed to sense her looking at him. His eyes flicked towards her face, then returned to Nasuada again, just as quickly. They had not even got time to meet each other's gaze.

"Eragon?" Nasuada said with the same uncertainty Arya herself remembered feeling when she had first seen how the dragons had changed him.

Bowing his head to Nasuada, Eragon twisted his right hand across his chest, as he had been taught to do by Arya. That felt like ages ago now, she thought.

"Eragon!" Nasuada burst out, this time with a smile spreading across her face, and with relief and delight in her voice.

Seeing Nasuada's smile, Arya allowed her own satisfaction and joy at having Eragon and Saphira back to flash across her face, before concealing it again.

"How did you get our message so quickly?" Nasuada asked.

"I didn't", Eragon told her. "I learnt about Galbatorix's army from my Scrying, and left Ellesméra the same day. It's good to be back with the Varden."

As he said the last sentence, his smile widened. And, without being able to suppress the feeling in time, Arya found herself wishing that she could give him such an open-hearted smile too.

Silently, Arya listened as Eragon explained to Nasuada, first about his training in Ellesméra and then about how the dragons had changed him during the Blood-Oath Celebration. However, she did notice that he said only a few words about his lessons, and that he managed to keep the existence of Oromis and Glaedr hidden very well. The knowledge made her even more pleased.

After Eragon had finished, Orik gave a brief account of their journey, that did not differ much from what Eragon had already told them.

Nasuada then proceeded to explain how she had managed to get the Varden to Surda and then to the Burning Plains. Her words seemed to impress Eragon greatly.

Arya let the Varden's leader speak, without adding any details of her own. Instead, she turned her eyes towards Saphira, letting them run over her elegant and powerful body, and over the new saddle that Oromis had given her.

After Nasuada had finished speaking, something that Arya guessed neither of them had expected happened. Elva, who had remained quiet and still during the whole conversation, spoke for the first time.

"Welcome, Shadeslayer", she said in her unnatural voice, causing a shiver to run down Arya's spine. "Welcome, Saphira."

Eragon's eyes immediately snapped towards the sound, and she could see the same expression of unease in his face as she herself experienced in elva's presence.

"Who are you?" Eragon asked, his voice quite steady, despite the look on his face.

Elva did not reply, but merely showed him the mark on her forehead. as soon as Eragon's eyes fell upon it, he seemed to understand.

Arya watched as he walked towards Elva, knelt down and took her hand in his. Then, he said in the Ancient Language:

"I am sorry. Can you forgive me for what I did to you?"

"I forgive you", Elva responded, and for the first time since Arya had met her, she sounded like the child she really was. "How could I not? You and Saphira created who I am, and I know you meant no harm. I forgive you, but I shall let this knowledge torture your conscience."

Then, Elva explained just what Eragon's spell had forced her to do, and how she must always struggle to keep from helping all those people who were hurt, or who were just about to get hurt. Arya saw eragon's eyes widen, and she could almost feel his guilt. But he made no move to interrupt elva while she spoke.

"You don't have to live like this forever", Eragon said once Elva had finished her bitter explanation. "The elves taught me how to undo a spell, and I believe I can free you of this curse. It won't be easy, but it can be done."

At that moment, Arya saw Elva showing weakness for what she believed to be the very first time. The little girl released a gasp, and her eyes were suddenly bright with tears. But then, she regained her self-control, dismissing Eragon's offer. However, Arya knew that she was still hoping.

Soon, Nasuada, Arya, Eragon, Orik, Saphira and Elva left the pavilion, for Nasuada wanted to introduce Eragon and Saphira to king Orrin as quickly as she could. Arya looked around as they entered Orrin's tent, even though she had been there before. it was full of all those strange instruments that he used to perform his experiments with. How he had managed to bring them all the way from Aberon, and why he had done it, were questions she could not find the answer to.

Orrin seemed just as curious about Eragon as Nasuada had been, and asked him several questions, all of which he answered politely enough. However, Arya could see the frustration in his demeanour, and she understood that he shared her feelings about Orrin. At least, he shared some of them.

Once they had finally left Orrin's tent, Eragon asked Nasuada:

"What shall I do now? How can I serve you?"

An expression of curiosity entered Nasuada's face as she answered:

"How do you think you can best serve me, Eragon? You know your own abilities far better than I do."

Interested suddenly, Arya waited. After a pause, Eragon announced that he would take control over the magicians in Du Vrangr Gata, as he had once been told to do. This took Arya by surprise, because she had always got the impression that Eragon disliked Du Vrangr Gata and everyone in it. But perhaps that too had changed.

They reached Nasuada's pavilion again, and Nasuada vanished into it. But when Arya was about to follow, Eragon reached out a hand, as if in an attempt to stop her, and said in the Ancient Language:

"Wait!"

To Arya, it was quite obvious what Eragon wanted to say, and she felt that she should refuse him the opportunity to speak with her. But she could not. She just met his eyes, which held hers for several long seconds. Everything around them seemed still now. Or else, Arya was just not in the state to notice anything other than the conversation that was just about to take place.

"Arya", Eragon said finally, still speaking her native language. "I won't apologize for how I feel about you. However, I wanted you to know that I am sorry for how I acted during the Blood-Oath Celebration. I wasn't myself that night. Otherwise, I would have never been so forward with you."

She could feel the honesty in his words, and how desperately he wanted their friendship to continue. It was just like back in her house, when he had apologized for his Fairth. And, just as she had done that day, Arya felt that she could not keep what she had promised during the Agaetí Blödhren. She did want their friendship to endure, regardless of what Eragon might be feeling towards her.

"And you won't do it again?" she asked, even though she supposed she already knew the answer.

"It wouldn't get me anywhere if I did, would it?" Eragon answered.

Arya had no reply to that, and simply continued to watch him, wondering what he would say next. She had no idea where this conversation was leading them, and she knew that she should feel more uneasy about it. But either, she had learnt so well by now to control that emotion, or else it was simply not there.

"No matter", Eragon said finally, realizing that she would not answer his question. "I don't want to trouble you, even if you ..."

There, he fell silent, suddenly looking quite uncomfortable. Arya understood that what he had been about to say would have been inappropriate.

Suddenly, Arya felt something inside her break. She knew now that her speculation in Aberon had been true. Her departure had indeed left Eragon more troubled and distracted than if she had stayed. But that had not been what she wanted to accomplish, she thought in a kind of desperation. And it was not only because it would make it harder for him to concentrate on his studies. She did not want to trouble him.

Speaking in a much kinder voice than before, Arya said:

"I'm not trying to hurt you, Eragon. You must understand that."

"I understand", said Eragon, though he sounded far from convinced.

A new silence stretched between them. And then, looking for a subject that would be easier to discuss, Arya said:

"Your flight went well, I trust."

"Well enough", came the response.

"You encountered no difficulty in the desert?" she continued.

"Should we have?"

"No", Arya said, amused by the question. "I only wondered."

She lowered her voice and asked, although she had already guessed much of the answer:

"What of you, Eragon? How have you been since the celebration? I heard what you said to Nasuada, but you mentioned nothing other than your back."

"I ...", he began, then fell silent yet again.

He looked as though he was trying to force the words over his lips. It was an expression that was just as familiar to Arya as it was to everyone else who used the Ancient Language, and she knew immediately what it meant. Eragon had been trying, but had failed, to lie in the Ancient Language.

"I'm better than before", he said finally.

Not at all satisfied with the answer, but knowing that she should not drive the matter further, Arya said simply:

"I am glad."

And that, she thought, was perfectly true.

Suddenly, the peaceful moment was broken by Nasuada's voice, calling for Arya to join her inside the pavilion.

"I am needed elsewhere, Eragon", she said, struggling to return to the reality again. "We are both needed elsewhere. A battle is about to take place."

She turned and walked halfway into the tent. But then she stopped, turned round to face him again, and said the first words that occurred to her:

"Take care, Eragon Shadeslayer."

Then, the entrance flap to the pavilion dropped back into place, separating them once more.


	27. Return into madness

Hello readers!

Now, after another long time of waiting, you can read another chapter. There's a kind of cliffhanger at the end, but the next chapter WILL be up much sooner!

So, please read, and continue with the reviewing! (84 reviews!? I really can't believe that ...)

Chapter 27: Return into madness

Arya stood alone on the plain, sheltered on all sides by the Varden's army. She stared towards the sky, trying to catch only the very slightest glimpse of stars, stars that would show her more clearly how long this endless night would last. But all the smoke rising from the ground hid the real sky from view, however much she struggled to see it.

The night was not silent. The sounds of men shifting position, or murmuring to each othr in low, grim voices, could be heard clearly in the still air. But still, some kind of unnatural calm seemed to have descended as soon as the last of what little evening light they were able to make out had faded away.

For tomorrow was the battle. Tomorrow, they would meet the Empire's army. Tomorrow, they would discover just how outnumbered they were going to be. And tomorrow, Arya would, once again, be having to do that which she still hated so much.

Arya stared out over the plain, towards that gigantic mass of figures that were the ranks of soldiers whom Galbatorix had recruited. And she found herself wondering what they might be doing now. What thoughts were moving in the heads of the men who had been forced to leave their homes to fight the Varden?

Of course, it was just silly to think such thoughts now, for she would get no answer to her question, and there was so much that needed her attention more.

As Arya thought this, her mind returned to Nasuada, and her decision to actually ally with the Urgals. A Kull had arrived earlier that evening, asking for an audience with the leader of the Varden. Arya remembered how the warriors had shouted horrible and, in her opinion at least, pointless things after the Urgal as he made his way towards Nasuada's pavilion.

But, unlike what appeared to be the majority of her people, Nasuada seemed quite undisturbed by all that the Urgals had done to the humans and dwarves in Farthen Dûr. Or at least, she showed none of these feelings when speaking to the Kull.

And now, the Varden and the Urgals were allies, prepared to fight together in the oncoming battle. However, Arya knew how many people would dislike Nasuada's decision, and perhaps even would begin to mistrust their leader because of it. And of course, that must not happen. It had been a dangerous decision, she thought to herself. But perhaps it would be worth the risk.

A sudden movement ahead of her made Arya's attention snap back to the present, but it was only Eragon and Saphira. With a certain amount of interest, Arya watched as they walked slowly through the ranks of men. Then, Eragon's voice came drifting back to her, and she could hear the incantations he was muttering under his breath. They were spells to protect, to deflect arrows aimed at him and to prevent swords from penetrating his armour. However, it soon became clear that he was not only casting them upon himself and Saphira, but upon Arya as well.

Impatient, Arya opened her mouth to protest. How could Eragon be so stupid as to cast spells upon her that she was perfectly capable of performing herself? All he would obtain by doing so was emptying his own body of strength. Strength that he was sure to be needing in the battle, if he wanted to survive.

But something, almost like a physical power, prevented the words from leaving her mouth. It was as though somewhere, deep down in her mind, there was a part of her that appreciated what Eragon was doing. She struggled with this for a moment, then relented.

The sudden cry made Arya straighten up, immediately pushing all but the reality far away from her mind. The sound was coming from the army opposite the Varden, and it was not only one voice either. Several of the men in Galbatorix's army were screaming, as though in agony, and the sound sent a chill through Arya's entire body. She could not imagine what was being done to her enemies right now, but she knew it must be something horrible. Had Galbatorix for some odd reason decided to punish his own men, right before the battle was to begin? Or was this some kind of trick, to deceive the Varden?

The men around her stirred, shifting position, apparently just as uneasy as Arya herself felt. Then, she caught sight of Nasuada coming towards her, and saw the expression of grimness and determination that was dominating her face.

"Do you know what is being done to them?" Arya found herself inquiring as soon as Nasuada reached her.

"Yes", Nasuada responded. "I do. It was partly my idea. I told Angela to go out there and poison every kind of food or drink she could find. She was evidently successful."

Looking around, Arya saw the herbalist not that far away. Angela's face appeared pale, and her whole body had tensed, as if she was readying herself for an attack. It was clear that she disliked what she had done just as much as everyone else. And still, she had done it, so that the Varden would have a chance to win this one battle. She had, just like everyone else in this army, only acted because it was necessary.

The following hours became a time that Arya would do her very best to avoid thinking of. The tortured screams from the Empire's army became louder, and she felt an urge to simply clap her hands over her ears and shut the sounds out. But she refused. This, she thought, trying to convince herself, was also a part of the battle. She could not turn away from a man who was losing his life due to her. Nor could she ignore what was happening now.

When Nasuada finally came riding up to Arya, accompanied by the leader of Du Vrangr Gata, Trianna, Arya felt a distinct wave of relief surge up within her. The battle would soon begin, and the waiting would be over.

"It is time", Arya heard Eragon say, and she knew that Trianna must have informed him of it by contacting him in his mind.

And now, the message was being passed around in whispered, but agitated voices. The men made their final preparations, and Arya could sense that atmosphere of exileration that some people always seemed to experience right before a battle.

Forwards they moved, as silently as it was possible for an army to move, across the no man's land that separated them from the Empire. The other army had not seen them yet, and their hope was for it to remain like that, at least for another few minutes.

In this, they were luckier than Arya had expected. For not until they had managed to cross two thirds of the plain did they hear the sound of a horn from the Empire's army, announcing that they had been discovered.

For an incredibly short moment, the memory of the battle under Farthen Dûr flashed through Arya's mind, and it was as though her own voice came echoing back to her:

"It has begun."

Abandoning all attempts to keep quiet, the Varden charged forwards, meeting the other army with a deafening sound. The people who had been surrounding Arya scattered, and she found herself swept away, with no more control over where she was going than if she had been a leaf in a furious storm. A soldier came running at her, and without thinking, Arya slew him. She knew that if she allowed herself to think now, doubt would overcome her. So, just as she had done in Farthen Dûr, she released all thoughts and trusted her reactions only.

The Varden's attack had come as a slight surprise to the empire, who were not as prepared as they ought to have been. But their very number was all they needed, and eventually, they recovered enough to strike back.

The battle kept raging on, and the two armies moved back and forth across the Burning Plains, fighting in a desperate, furious way. Soon, Arya lost all sense of time, and would not in any way have been able to tell how long she kept on fighting. All that told of the passing hours was her increasing tiredness, something that she at first did her best to ignore too, but which became more and more noticeable with every new enemy whom she needed to defeat.

A few times, she caught sight of Saphira and Eragon, running right into a group of soldiers and bringing them all to the ground within minutes. It gave her a feeling of awe to watch them, to think of how much their power had increased.

But then, after only a few seconds, she was recalled to the present, and lost sight of the dragon and Rider once more.

However, not even the presence of Eragon and Saphira could reduce the hopelessness that soon threatened to overcome the people of the Varden. They were fighting, they were losing soldiers, and the Empire's army seemed not to have diminished at all. It was just like back in Farthen Dûr. They were outnumbered, as they had known they would be all the time.

And the sun began to move towards evening.

A sudden cry made Arya turn round. Then, she gasped. A whole army of dwarves, with Hrothgar at the head of it, was rushing right into the battle,a ttacking the Empire's army from all sides and forcing them to abandon their positions. The dwarves were shouting in a violent way as they joined the battle, and arya caught a glimpse of Orik, grinning from ear to ear as he passed her.

All of a sudden, hope seemed to be smiling towards the Varden instead of the Empire, whose army was now slowly forced to retreat, further and further. It was as though the very knowledge that they had another ally had given them all the strength that the battle had drained from them during the day. Arya saw men getting up from the ground and rushing straight into the fight, which they had abandoned in despair only a few minutes ago. And she felt the change herself too, as if energy was suddenly surging through her vains.

However, Arya did not get more time to wonder about it, for at that moment, four soldiers from the Empire came rushing at her from different directions, trapping her between them. Whirling around on her heels, Arya brought one of them down with her sword, and was just about to fight her way out of the situation, when a massive body came hurtling out of nowhere towards her. The Kull knocked the three remaining soldiers to the ground using only his hands, and looked down at Arya.

For a moment, they stared at each other, an odd feeling growing inside Arya. In Farthen Dûr, she had been fighting the Urgals just as violently and desperately as she fought these soldiers, and now she was being saved by one of them.

"Thank you", Arya said. "Although you wouldn't have needed to ..."

She was abruptly silenced then by the sound of a horn that reached them from the Empire's now scattered army. It was an ominous sound, a mighty sound, a sound that could easily be recognized as a signal. Arya stood absolutely still, as the battle field around her suddenly went quiet. Both friends and enemies were standing just as still as she was, waiting.

Someone had begun to beat what sounded like a giant drum, creating a steady rithm that for some reason filled Arya's body with an intense feeling of danger. She shivered.

And then, as she looked out over the plain before her, she saw a figure rising from the back of the Empire's army, climbing higher and higher into the darkening sky. It was a red figure, and even through the sound of the drum, Arya could hear the beating of its wings. And upon its back was a Rider.

Dread instantly grabbed hold of Arya, driving away all thoughts but the ones concearning the red dragon and its Rider. So Galbatorix had made another egg hatch? But when? How long had this Rider been training? And what ...? Why ...? How were they ...?

The dragon was soaring above their heads now, and the Rider reached out his right hand, in a gesture Arya recognized. She knew that the men, or woman, was collecting power to perform a spell.

Then, a ball of lightening flew through the air, right towards the place where Hrothgar stood. For a moment, he remained on his feet, as the magicians surrounding him desperately struggled to block the spell. But then, the king of the dwarves fell to the ground.

The roar of anger from the dwarves echoed across the plain, and a part of Arya shared their feelings. She turned to see Eragon leaping onto Saphira, an expression of both fear and fury on his face. For a moment, they met each other's eyes. Arya wished desperately that she could help them, but she knew that this would be a fight between only dragons and Riders. There was no place for her, nothing she could do but watch.

And then, Saphira took off, rising rapidly towards the other dragon.

Standing as though paralysed, Arya watched the two dragons above her. She saw them circling each other, wrestling in mid-air, while their Riders tried to reach each other with their swords. Vaguely, she noticed that the others around her, humans, dwarves and Urgals alike, had also stopped fighting to watch what was happening in the sky.

Desperation gripped Arya. it was just like in Farthen Dûr, when Eragon had had to battle Durza on his own. The only exception was that in Farthen Dûr, arya had been able to help him. Now, she could find nothing to do that would assist him in the battle against the other Rider.

"Arya!" a familiar voice called, and Arya turned to see Nasuada riding up to her.

Her face and her armour were covered in blood, and her eyes were glazed. It looked as though she was near to pass out, and Arya stepped up to her.

"Let me heal you!" she said, already reaching towards her magical powers.

"No", Nasuada said, pointing at something behind Arya. "Look!"

Reluctantly, Arya tore her gaze away from the fight taking place in the sky above her, to stare in the direction Nasuada was pointing.

Anger immediately flashed through her, clearing her thoughts, which had been chasing each other madly ever since she first saw the red dragon. There, standing at the front of the Empire's forces, were the twins, and they were shooting balls of lightening towards the Varden.

Traitors! That was arya's first thought. traitors who abandoned the Varden to join their enemies instead. She had never been too fond of the twins, but this ... This was too much!

Wiping away the tears of fear and anger that had been blurring her vision, Arya returned her gaze to the two dragons, who were now descending to land on a nearby plateau. She wanted to run over to them, she wanted to fight the twins, she wanted do something other than just stand here and watch. But something kept her still, like frozen to the ground beneath her.

And now, Eragon and the other Rider were out of her sight, however much she strained her eyes to keep them in focus.

Hopelessness returned to her, just as intense as it had been before the dwarves joined them. What could she do now? What could anyone do now?

Then, Arya's attention was suddenly caught by something that seemed to be going on right behind her. She turned round, and saw another group of people moving from the direction of the river. They did not look like soldiers, and most of them appeared quite unused to battle. But the one who seemed to be their leader was walking right towards the twins, a hammer raised in his hand.

"Who are they?" Nasuada asked. "Why have they come? And what in the world are they doing?"

Arya did not respond. She supposed that it was quite clear what that man was doing. But how he could think that it would be possible for him to defeat two magicians ...

Arya got no time to think further along that line. The man had raised his hammer and brought it down, right onto the head of one of the twins, hwo immediately fell to the ground. A moment later, and he had done the same to the other twin.

It took Arya several long moments to collect herself after this. But when she did, she scanned the land around her for any sight of Eragon, Saphira or the other Rider. But she found none. They were all gone.


	28. Aftermath

Quick update again ...

Just one thing before you can all read on. For a few chapters now, I might change some very small details, such as time. For example, I might say that it's gone a few days when in the book, it hasn't. I know that when I started this whole thing, I had decided not to do that. But ... well, my story will - in my opinion at least - make more sense if I write it like this. So if this bothers you ... well, tell me! Also, I may be the only one to notice these things ... I don't know ...

But now, enough with my talking!

Chapter 28: Aftermath

An hour passed. An hour during which Arya did her very best to heal all the men, dwarves and Urgals who lay scattered across the Burning Plains. An hour during which she kept looking towards the sky, hoping that she might find some sign that would tell her what had happened to Eragon and Saphira. But all she had seen was when the red dragon and its Rider flew away.

Now, the Burning Plains around her lay still and silent, but for the occasional groan of a dying man. No crying voices could be heard, no fearful screams as friends and family discovered that the people they had cared about had lost their lives in battle. A feeling of shock seemed to have descended over them all.

And Arya was so tired! So tired, that she could barely think! So tired of everything that had happened today, that she wanted to simply lie down right here, regardless of where she was, and go to sleep.

But the knowledge that Eragon and Saphira were probably dead, or captured by that other Rider, kept her from allowing her own tiredness to take over. She needed to go on, needed to find out where they were and what had happened to them. That was her task right now, and she would not allow herself to fail simply because she was tired.

Looking towards the river, arya watched the ship that had been anchored there. It was that which had transported that strange group of men who were not soldiers to the Burning Plains. No one seemed to know who they were, and Arya knew that Nasuada would want to speak with their leader. But she had not been able to find him anywhere.

Arya sighed and started to walk slowly back towards the Varden's camp. She would have wanted to stay and help for longer than this, but realized that her exhaustion was preventing her from being of much use to the Varden.

A sudden thought flashed through Arya's mind just as she entered the campsite, making her stop dead. She had been looking for Eragon and Saphira using her eyes, but not her mind. It was such an easy and obvious solution, that she berated herself for not having thought about it until now.

Closing her eyes and gathering her scattered thoughts, Arya carefully reached out her mind towards her surroundings. She could feel the minds of other people, who had not learnt the art of protecting themselves from intruders. Some of them withdrew in fear as they felt her mental touch, others seemed simply too tired or shocked to react.

But the minds of the two people Arya was looking for were nowhere to be seen. With the same feeling of mingled hopelessness and despair as she had experienced in the battle, Arya extended her own consciousness even further, crossing the river and continuing to search the landscape beyond. But her efforts proved to be in vain.

with the exhaustion suddenly gone, Arya started to run towards Nasuada's pavilion. The fear seemed to have woken her mind and her senses again. Why had she not done more to search for Eragon before? Maybe, if she had been just a little faster, she would have been able to locate him before ... what? What had happened to him? And where was he? And Saphira?

Arya's thoughts stopped suddenly, as she realized how much attention she had been paying to Eragon, and Eragon only, ignoring his dragon completely. It was not fair, and she knew it. And besides, she could not understand what had made her think like that.

Nasuada sat alone in her pavilion when Arya entered. She had been healed, but blood was still covering her. And she looked as weary and filled with hopelessness as Arya herself was.

"Nasuada", said Arya, ignoring all the greetings. "Nasuada, I have been searching everywhere and with every method I can think of, but have found no trace of Eragon or Saphira."

Nasuada's eyes snapped towards her immediately, and she said, apparently struggling to contain her alarm:

"You ... you have?"

"I have", responded Arya. "Nor did I manage to find the other dragon or his Rider. We need to search for them, Nasuada. It is possible that they might not be dead, and that Eragon and Saphira are right now being transported to Urû'baen and Galbatorix. We cannot allow that to happen."

Her voice faded away when she said the last words, and it was all she could do to keep calm. If Eragon and Saphira really would be taken to Galbatorix, Arya knew only too well what they would be forced to endure.

Nasuada's face was filled with a kind of sorrow as she met Arya's eyes, saying in a hushed, but still powerful voice:

"We cannot afford to search for them now, so soon after the battle has ended. I am sorry, Arya, but everyone here is needed now, as I am sure you are aware."

"I am, of course", Arya said, feeling the frustration build itself inside her. "But if we lose Eragon and Saphira, we will not stand a chance to ever defeat Galbatorix! And ..."

She cut herself off, realizing that she had no idea what to say next. And ... what? Had she been about to draw her own friendship with Eragon and Saphira into this discussion? And in that case, what in the world had she thought she would obtain by doing that?

"Arya", Nasuada said. "I ..."

She did not finish, but merely stared towards the entrance to the pavilion. Both angry and anxious, Arya followed her gaze. And then she froze.

Standing In the opening to Nasuada's tent were Eragon, Saphira and another man, whom Arya barely noticed. Both Eragon and Saphira looked exhausted, and Eragon's face wore an expression of something else as well, something that Arya was not sure she could understand. However, she found that the only thing which mattered to her in that instant was that they were alive, and that they were here.

Running right passed Arya, Nasuada pulled Eragon into an embrace, saying in a loud and agitated voice:

"Where were you? we thought you were dead, or worse!"

"Not quite", Eragon responded.

Arya neither mmoved, nor spoke. A feeling of intense relief had blazed up within her at the sound of Eragon's voice, making her want to run over and fling her arms around him as well, just like Nasuada had done. But of course, she would never allow herself to do such a thing, and especially not now, when there were still so much that needed to be discussed.

"We couldn't see what happened to you and Saphira after you landed on the plateau", Nasuada was now saying, finally stepping back from Eragon. "When the red dragon left and you didn't appear, Arya tried to contact you but felt nothing, so we assumed ..."

"I'm sorry", Eragon said. "I didn't mean to worry you. I was just so tired after the fight, I forgot to lower my barriers."

Arya was slightly surprised by this. It was not the fact that Eragon had forgotten to lower his wards, but how well he had managed to hide himself.

"Nasuada", Eragon continued, while the man who had come with him stepped into the light. "I would like to introduce my cousin, Roran. Ajihad may have mentioned him to you before. Roran, lady Nasuada, leader of the Varden. And this is Arya Svit-Kona, the elves' ambassador."

As Roran bowed to both Nasuada and Arya, Nasuada said:

"It is an honour to meet Eragon's cousin."

"Indeed", Arya agreed.

"Roran was the one who killed the twins", Eragon explained. "He and the rest of the people from our village, Carvahall, has arrived on that ship we saw before."

Staring at Roran with a solemn expression, Nasuada said:

"The Varden are in your debt, Roran, for stopping the twins' rampage. Who knows how much damage they would have caused before Eragon or Arya could have confronted them? You helped us to win this battle. I won't forget that. Our supplies are limited, but I will see that everyone on your ship is clothed and fed, and that your sick are treated."

Bowing again, Roran said with the same honesty that Arya had often heard in Eragon's voice:

"Thank you, lady Nasuada."

Arya smiled to herself. Now, Nasuada had, once again, proved what a good and valuable leader she was. Aside from the fact that she was doing Roran and the others on his ship a great favour, her kindness would also insure that they did not disobey her.

Nasuada then returned her attention to Eragon, having allowed Roran to stay only because Eragon asked her to do so. And so, all of them listened to what Eragon had to tell them about the new Rider.

First, he told them all, although Arya knew that the information was intended especially for Roran, about the three dragon eggs that were left in Alagaësia, and about how two of them had now hatched. He also, which surprised Arya somewhat, explained about Murtagh and Morzan.

Then, he went on to explaining about his fight with the other dragon, much of which Arya had witnessed from the ground.

"They were stronger than we had thought", Eragon said. "Much stronger. And after the other Rider and I had been fighting for a while, I realized that we had dueled before. So I tore off his helmet, and ..."

He hesitated, and Nasuada asked quietly:

"It was Murtagh, wasn't it?"

Surprised and startled, arya turned to look at her, to find that her face was filled with sorrow. She had not even considered the possibility that the Rider might be Murtagh, but supposed that it did make sense.

"How ...", Eragon began, thus answering Nasuada's question.

Letting out a sigh, Nasuada said:

"If the twins survived, it only made sense that Murtagh had as well. Did he tell you what really happened that day in Farthen Dûr?"

"He did", Eragon said. "Well, it was the twins who made those Urgals attack us. Once they were in the tunnels, they took Murtagh straight to Galbatorix in Urû'baen."

At these words, a tear fell from the corner of Nasuada's eye.

"It's a pity that this befell Murtagh", The Varden's leader said, her voice still surprisingly steady, "when he has already endured so much. I enjoyed his company in Tronjheim, and believed he was our ally, despite his upbringing. I find it hard to think of him as our enemy."

They were all silent for some time after these words. Arya, who was watching Eragon all the while, noticed the tension in his body, and how he drew a deep breath. She understood that he had more to tell, and that the news would be far from good.

"Something else happened as well", he said, confirming that which she had just guessed. "Right before Murtagh left, he stole Zar'roc, and ... and he told me who my father is. First, he told me that he is my brother. His mother was Selena too. And our father ... our father is Morzan."

Silence fell in the tent when he had finished speaking. Arya stared, hardly able to believe what Eragon was saying. Morzan's son? she thought, but then stopped her mind from going any further along that line. What did it matter if Eragon was Morzan's son?

Well, she thought. The answer gave itself. It did not matter to her, nor to Nasuada, Saphira or, as far as she could tell, Roran. But some of the others in the Varden would not see things like that. They would automatically believe that since Morzan was his father, Eragon must be like him, like Murtagh. Like Galbatorix. It would not matter, she knew, how many times she or Nasuada assured them that Eragon was on their side. She had encountered this kind of things much enough to know that by now.

Clearing her throat, Arya said:

"No one else can know about this. The Varden are demoralized enough by the presence of a new Rider, and they'll be even more upset when they learn it's Murtagh, whom they fought alongside and came to trust in Farthen Dûr. If word spreads that Eragon Shadeslayer is Morzan's son, the men will grow disillusioned, and few people will want to join us. Not even Orrin should be told."

"I fear you're right", Nasuada said in a tone that contained more weariness than she had shown during the whole conversation.

They went on discussing Murtagh for a few more minutes, but were soon forced to come to the conclusion that they could decide nothing now, when they were already so tired from the day's events.

But just as Eragon and Roran turned to leave, Arya stepped closer to Eragon, preventing him from going. She felt a sudden pity as she looked into his face and saw how much the news about his father truly bothered him, and she hated the words she herself had just spoken. She had made it sound as though Eragon and Saphira would be nothing but a bother to the Varden now, which was not at all what she had meant.

"Do not allow this to trouble you overmuch, Eragon-elda", she said in a soft voice that she hoped contained some reassurance, even though she possessed little of that herself. "You are not your father, nor your brother. Their shame is not yours."

"Aye", Nasuada said. "Nor imagine that it has lowered our opinion of you."

She reached out then and touched Eragon's cheek, a gesture which left Arya just as unsure and doubtful as she had been when Nasuada embraced him. She wished so much that there was something more she could do to alleviate his burdon, but had no idea what that might be.

"I know you, Eragon", Nasuada continued. "You have a good heart. The name of your father cannot change that."

An expression that might have been relief flashed across Eragon's face. He gave both Arya and Nasuada a faint smile, then twisted his hand across his chest.

"Thank you", he said, before turning to follow Roran and Saphira out of the pavilion.

Arya departed soon afterwards. There was still a lot to be done, but Nasuada, Orrin and their advisers could manage those things without her. Now, at last, she would be allowed to sleep.

And sleep she did, despite all the things that had happened to her, Eragon, Nasuada and the rest of the Varden today.


	29. Departure

Okay ... another short, odd, not so good chapter ...

I seriously think that everyone was rather OOC in this chapter, but then again ... to let Eragon and Roran leave for Helgrind was not what I had expected of Nasuada when I first read about this in the books ...

Oh yes, I almost forgot to ask. Strange title to this chapter, isn't it?

Chapter 29: Departure

The shock that the battle had left behind lingered over them all for several days, just like those ominous clouds of smoke that kept drifting over the Burning plains. No one seemed to know what to do, and Arya could sometimes catch sight of several men or women, who did nothing but simply wander along the paths between the tents. She could feel the same herself. It was as if everything had come to a halt after the battle, after Murtagh and the twins had been discovered, after she had learnt about Eragon's father. Before, they had been striving towards the battle, and all they had cared about was how they were going to avoid being defeated by the Empire. But now that the other army had retreated, there was no path for them to follow.

In an attempt to ignore this feeling, Arya spent as much of her time as possible helping Nasuada in every way she could. She healed all the wounded, whom they had not managed to tend to in the immediate aftermath of the battle. She gave food and other things to the people who had come on Roran's ship, and did her best to find tents for them. And she dealt with all those other details, details that could seem unnecessary, but which would, if no one cared about them, ruin all they had been trying to accomplish.

And between all these activities, Arya kept a careful watch over Eragon and Saphira, in much the same way she had done after the battle in Farthen Dûr. She noticed how troubled Eragon still was, and she kept looking for an opportunity to talk with him again, even though she still did not know what to say. However, her first chance to speak with him came in a way that she had not at all expected.

It was early morning, and Arya had just awoken from one of her confusing waking dreams, when a loud knock on the front pole to her tent made her jump out of bed. Angela was standing in the entrance, rubbing her eyes and looking as though she was still not fully awake.

"Nasuada wants you to come to her pavilion", she said, surprising Arya by getting straight to the point at once. "Or at least ... that's what I think she said. It seems as though I was the first person her eyes fell upon when she realized she needed to choose someone who could carry the message for her."

Following Angela towards the red pavilion, Arya wondered what Nasuada might be wanting to say to her now. She had spent the whole of last night in the Varden's leader's tent, and then it had seemed as though they had things under control. Or at least, under as good control as it was possible in their situation.

"Do you know what she wants?" Arya inquired of Angela, knowing that she was very unlikely to get an answer.

"Oddly enough", the herbalist told her, "I don't. She did not say. I suppose I could have found it out myself, but ... I'm tired! I've spent the last two days trying to escape Trianna. She keeps going on about how I should join Du Vrangr Gata, just like the twins did. Blah! What a waste of her time!"

Arya let out a brief laugh, though her mind was still focusing on Nasuada and what she might be wanting to discuss this time.

When she stepped into the command tent, however, Arya was surprised to find both Eragon and Saphira there as well. She looked at Eragon's face, expecting to see the same miserable expression there as she had before. But she could not find it. Instead, a look of fierce determination met her.

However, Arya got no time to ask one of the hundreds of questions that had suddenly been woken in her mind before Nasuada spoke.

"Good", she said. "You are all here. I shall let Eragon explain what this is about, since he is the one responsible for this ... meeting. As a matter of fact, I have no more idea about what he has to say than you have, Arya. So now, Eragon ..."

"Yes", Eragon said, casting a swift glance around the pavilion. "Well ... this has actually more to do with Roran than with me, but I promised I would help him. Before he and the rest of the villagers from Carvahall left their homes, Katrina, who is a ... good friend of ours, was captured by the Ra'zac and transported to Helgrind. Now, Roran wants to rescue her, and he needs me and Saphira to help him. I know this is not the ideal time to leave, but ... like I said, I promised I would help him. And he is my cousin. I need to do this."

The last part, arya noticed, seemed to have escaped his lips in a fit of desperation.

Nasuada was staring at Eragon once he finished, an expression of disbelief entering her face. Arya shared the feeling. The sensible part of her could not believe Eragon was actually asking for permission to leave. Now, when he knew just as well as she and Nasuada did what might happen if something went wrong.

But on the other hand, that small part of Arya, the one she had been fighting to ignore these last weeks, understood Eragon's reasons for wanting to do this. She guessed that it had not been easy for him to explain to Roran about all that had happened since he became a Dragon Rider. And she knew that feeling he must be experiencing now, that he needed to help his cousin in any way he could.

Arya wrestled with these thoughts until Nasuada finally said:

"Eragon. Eragon, you must understand that I cannot give you permission to leave now. It would endanger everything too much, which I definitely cannot afford to do. not with ... with Murtagh and Thorn somewhere out there, waiting for an opportunity to fight you again. If you go alone ..."

"I will not be alone", Eragon said, a slight note of irritation in his voice. "I will have Saphira and Roran with me. And I am not helpless!"

"I know you are not", Nasuada responded, also raising her voice and looking the young Rider straight in the eyes. "However, that was not my point. To go to Helgrind ... to return to the Empire now ... it is not worth it, Eragon! I am sorry, but that is the truth. You must understand that!"

Eragon's eyes darted towards Arya, as if he wanted her to give him some support. But she knew that Nasuada was right, and she knew that she must tell him so now.

"I have to agree with Nasuada", she said, resolutely driving away all other thoughts. "The risks are too many, Eragon. And you are too important."

Eragon glared at them both, the frustration visible in his face. His eyes then darted around the tent once more, as if seeking a new argument.

Finally, he said:

"I understand all that you two told me, and you know that I care about the Varden, about the fate of Alagaësia. However, I also care about my family, and I cannot refuse to help Roran now."

Their argument kept raging on like that, and Arya tried to be as gentle as she could, even though she knew what a small part her kindness played in this.

Finally, Saphira let out a roar, a sound that shook the walls of the tent and startled them all into silence. Arya turned and saw the dragon's eyes flashing in a furious and impatient way. When she spoke, her mental voice was audible to everyone in the tent.

- Enough, hatchlings! I am sore and tired, and Eragon is doing a poor job of explaining himself. We have better things to do than stand around, yammering like jackdaws, no? Good. Now, listen to me. Eragon is my Rider, and I have agreed to help him iin this. So whether you agree or not, I shall make sure Eragon and Roran can do what they must. And if you do not accept that, I have another reason as well. As I suppose Eragon mentioned, both he and Roran have known Katrina since their childhood, and as long as she is kept in Helgrind, the Ra'zac will have a strong hold on both my Rider and his cousin. And through Eragon, me as well. So those are my reasons for going, and like I said, I do not care much about permissions. At least, not as much as Eragon does. Is that clear?

Silence stretched between the four of them after Saphira's words. Arya did not know what to reply to all this. She knew that it would be pointless to continue arguing, and she hated the fact. She hated this whole plan, she knew how dangerous it was, and she knew that there was nothing she could do to prevent Eragon and Saphira from carrying it out.

- It is clear, she said to Saphira, speaking directly into her mind. But you know what we both think about your plan.

- I do, Saphira replied, her voice not softening the least. And you know what I think about your arguments. Now, we have things to do before we leave. May we go?

"You may", Nasuada sighed.

Arya watched as Eragon and Saphira left the tent, with the feeling that she ought to follow them, to say something. This would be her last opportunity to do so in what she believed would be quite a long time.

"So", Nasuada said, her look of intense weariness, which she rarely showed at all, now returning to her face. "That was what they wanted."

Looking directly at Arya, she added:

"Had it not been for the fact that you are the most skilled magician here, I would ask you to follow them, to insure that they were safe. Now, we can only hope."

"Aye", Arya murmured, trying to find something to say.

Nasuada's words were, of course, true, although the thought had not occurred to her. She did want to follow Eragon. She wanted to get up right now and rush after him. But if she did, that would of course be even more foolish than to let Eragon go alone, for it would mean that no one would be here to protect the Varden, if Murtagh and Thorn turned up again.

Arya spread her hands helplessly, suddenly overcome by an intense feeling of tiredness.

"Well", Nasuada said finally. "I suppose we will have to inform the rest of the Varden. And they will not be happy about this either."

"No", arya agreed, trying not to let the tiredness be heard in her voice. "However, we cannot conceal this from them, like we did ..."

She stopped, having meant to say 'with Eragon's father'. But for some reason, it did not feel quite right of her to draw that into this discussion.

Seeming to understand what Arya had been about to say, Nasuada simply nodded in agreement.

The next hour or so passed in a series of repeated discussions with Jörmundur, the Council of Elders, Orrin, his advisers, and what felt like a thousand others. They all had the same arguments, and Arya and Nasuada had to respond with what they too thought was wrong, but which Saphira had, more or less, forced them to accept.

And so, the time came for Eragon and Roran to leave. The sun had already risen high into the sky, and for a moment, it actually struck through the smoke that used to hide it from view. Arya found herself bathed in its warmt as she, along with Nasuada and a few others, walked to the edge of the plain to watch Saphira fly off.

"We will be careful", Eragon said as he looked at Nasuada and Arya. "You know that. And we will try to come back as soon as we possibly can. Trust me, please."

"I do", Nasuada said.

"And so do I", Arya added. "Do what you must, and then return."

Eragon nodded, then climbed onto Saphira and tightened the strings around his legs. Then, with her wings beating powerfully and sending clouds of dust flying in every direction, Saphira sprang into the air, rising higher and higher, until she was only a small dot in the sky.

Arya kept her eyes fixed upon the diminishing shape of the dragon, until she could see it no more. An odd feeling of emptiness had descended over her, and it was something she could not remember having felt before. At least not in a very long time.

But, since she was apparently unable to understand it, she simply shook her head and started to walk back into the centre of the Varden's camp, struggling, as she always did, to push it away from her mind.


	30. Rash decisions

Hello again everyone!

Here is ... well, basically another not so good chapter. But ... well, I'll have to write this one before I write the next, so that the story makes sense ...

Also, if this chapter looks funny in any kind of way, that's because I'm trying something new. I'm posting this from my iPhone. Yes, I've actually found a way to do that! Let's just hope it works! And if it doesn't look right, I'll just replace it with a version from my computer.

Update: Okay, the mobile thing didn't work.

Chapter 30: Rash decisions

Arya tore her gaze away from the ceiling of the tent, making an effort to focus her mind on what Trianna was saying. Around the two women, all the magicians in Du Vrangr Gata were assembled, some of them looking almost as bored as Arya herself was. They had gathered together in order to decide how to shieled themselves against Murtagh and Thorn, even when neither Eragon, nor Arya was there to help them. And, since Arya was the one who knew most magic and was most familiar with the Ancient Language, naturally she must participate in the meeting as well.

But now, the discussion had gone in a completely different direction, as two of the weaker spellcasters had started arguing about their status in DU Vrangr Gata. Arya had made several attempts to return the conversation to the subject which was their very reason for having this meeting in the first place, but had found that she was all but successful. So she returned her gaze to the ceiling, allowing her thoughts to wander away, far from this tent and everything that was going on inside it.

It had gone several days now, and the Varden had heard nothing from Eragon, Saphira and Roran. At first, it had only seemed natural, considering how hard and dangerous it was to communicate with each other these days. But now, Arya did think that they ought to have got some sort of news. They did not even know if the Rider, their greatest and only hope, was still alive. And what was worse, arya had found no method of reaching them, despite the amount of time she had spent searching for one.

Now, the anxiety, which had been rising rapidly within her for the last few days, lay just beneath the surface of her consciousness. It was like a wave that is just going to come bursting in over the shore, and Arya even found herself wondering what would happen once she released this wave.

Suddenly, Arya's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of commotion reaching them from outside. Leaping up from her chair, she hurried over to the tent entrance to see what was going on.

What she saw made her surprised. A group of warriors were running through the rows of tents, towards the open space where Saphira could land and take off.

"Saphira has been seen!" one of them called, noticing Arya's questioning look.

A sudden surge of energy washed away all Arya's anxiety, as her mind registered the words she had heard. She turned, but everyone in the tent was already on their feet. Together, they too joined the stream of people, all making their way in the same direction.

With her elven sight, so much stronger than that of any human, Arya could easily make out Saphira, flying as fast as a dragon can fly towards their camp. However, she was still so far away, that it would take her several minutes to reach them.

Looking around, Arya was slightly amazed by the number of people who had already assembled, for it could not have gone long since Saphira had been seen.

Noticing Nasuada standing not that far away, Arya started to make her way over to her. Her face, she noticed once she got closer, was pale, and both her arms were bandaged tightly. For some reason, however, arya did not think she had been in battle.

the Varden's leader had spent that afternoon conversing with warriors who had arrived from the tribe she had been born in, and she had insisted on not being disturbed by anyone. Not even her usual guards had been allowed to witness the conversation. It had gone on for so long, that Arya knew several of the Varden must have begun to worry. But, since she had been stuck in the meeting with Du Vrangr Gata for just as long, she had seen little of this.

"Arya", Nasuada said as Arya stepped up to her.

"What has happened to you?" Arya asked in a low voice, suddenly feeling that this was not anything they should let everyone hear.

"I ...", Nasuada began. "I have participated in the Trial of the Long Knives. I needed to do it, to prove that I was indeed worthy of leading the people in my tribe as well as the Varden."

Arya stared at her. She knew she shouldn't, knew that she ought to worry about Eragon and Saphira instead. But for a moment, the thoughts about them were pushed from her mind, as she took in what Nasuada had just told her. She knew what the Trial of the Long Knives was, and she also knew the danger it involved. But if Nasuada had succeeded, she was sure to be admired by everyone in her tribe. And not only in her tribe, thought Arya, but by the whole of the Varden. It had been a skilled move of her.

Taking a deep breath and returning her attention to Nasuada, Arya said:

"I have known every leader of the Varden, and they were all mighty men and women, and none so much as Ajihad. In this, though, I believe you have surpassed even him."

"You honour me, Arya", Nasuada responded. "But I fear that if I burn so brightly, too few shall remember my father as he deserves."

"The deeds of the children are a testament of the upbringing they received from their parents", Arya objected. "Burn like the sun, Nasuada, for the brighter you burn, the more people there shall be who will respect Ajihad for teaching you how to bear the responsibilities at such a tender age."

At these words, a smile flashed across Nasuada's face and she said, half jokingly:

"A tender age? I am a grown woman by our reckoning."

Smiling in return, Arya responded:

"True. But if we judge by years and not wisdom, no human would be considered an adult among my kind. Except for Galbatorix, that is."

"And me", came a voice from behind.

Whirling round, Arya saw that Angela must have been listening to their conversation all the time.

"Come now!" Nasuada burst out. "You can't be much older than I am."

Letting out a laugh, Angela said:

"You're confusing appearances with age. You ought to have more sense than that, after being around Arya so long."

Before either of the other two could respond to this, however, Elva stepped up to them, and Arya was able to hear what she whispered in Nasuada's ear:

"Eragon is not on Saphira."

Fear instantly struck Arya. She heard Nasuada asking the girl how she could know that, but she needed no explanations.

Standing with her back straight and her face as inscrutable as she could make it, Arya watched as Saphira swooped down and landed before them. Nasuada had ordered Jörmundur to send all the warriors away, so that only those who really needed to would know of the absence of Eragon.

From Saphira's back, two people were now dismounting, and neither of them was Eragon. Roran bowed to Nasuada and Orrin, before introducing the young woman by his side as Katrina. Arya watched the person whom Roran and Eragon had risked so much in order to rescue, but her mind registered little of what she saw. Her anxiety was simply overcoming her curiosity at the moment.

There could only be one explanation for Eragon's absence. At least, she could find only one explanation. But that could not be. No, surely it could not. If Eragon had really been ... killed, or captured, wouldn't Roran and Katrina seem more anxious and filled with sorrow? And Saphira? Wouldn't Saphira be so mad with grief and fear that she would be completely incoherent? In any event, Arya was sure that she would not simply stand calmly in front of them, waiting for anyone to ask the obvious question.

After they had exchanged the usual greetings, Nasuada reached out her mind to Saphira and asked:

- Where is he?

Saphira did not immediately reply. Instead, she moved closer, fixing her eyes upon Nasuada, arya and Angela. Then, she asked, just as Arya had done, what had happened to Nasuada. However, Arya was pleased when Nasuada refused to tell her, and they moved on to that which was the most pressing matter on everyone's mind.

- Eragon, Saphira said with apparent bitterness, decided to remain in the Empire.

A shocked silence followed, during which Arya's worries suddenly transformed into pure fury. Decided to remain in the Empire? The words made no sense. How could Eragon have been so stupid? She knew that he was quite likely to make a rash decision, but she had not expected something like this. And why had Saphira not managed to prevent him from carrying his stupid plan out?

Arya was just about to ask Saphira all her questions, but Nasuada was quicker.

- How ... how could you allow him to stay? she asked.

- Eragon made his own choice, Saphira replied, small flames now visible in hher nostrils. I could not stop him. He insists upon doing what he thinks is right, no matter the consequences for him or the rest of Alagaësia. I could shake him like a hatchling, but I'm proud of him. Fear not. He can take care of himself. So far, no misfortune has befallen him. I would know if he was hurt.

That was of course true, Arya knew. But it still did not calm her as much as Saphira must have intended.

- And why did he make this choice, Saphira? Arya asked.

- It would be faster for me to show you rather than explain with words, Saphira responded. May I?

They all agreed without questions.

Suddenly, a stream of Saphira's memories flowed into Arya's mind. She saw how Eragon, Roran and Saphira attacked Helgrind. She experienced the wild battle with the Ra'zac. And she heard Eragon explain that he would stay in Helgrind, and his reasons for doing it.

Once the wave of impressions faded, Orrin exploded.

"Blast it!" he shouted, his voice much louder than he would have needed to make it in order to make himself heard. "Eragon could not have picked a worse time to set off on his own!"

He went on shouting for a long time about how inconvenient he thought this was. Arya had to admit to herself that she did agree with him, even though she hardly listened to what he said.

Instead, she continued to think about what Saphira had just shown them all. Eragon's explanations did not make any sense. To simply stay to kill the last Ra'zac and discover more of Helgrind was just not enough. But what else could have made him stay, Arya had not got enough knowledge to work out herself.

She wanted to ask him, she realized. She wanted do do it right now. She wanted to find him, to bring him back here safely. And someone would need to do it.

Orrin had calmed down by this time, and the others were busy discussing what to doo now, but Arya did not join their discussion quite yet. This would, she knew, be a decision almost as rash as Eragon's, and she would probably be just as unable as he was to provide a good explanation. But what else could she do?

Taking a deep breath, Arya said to Saphira:

- Where exactly was Eragon when you last touched his mind?

- In the entrance to Helgrind, came the response.

- And have you any idea what path he intended to follow?

- He did not yet know himself.

Arya straightened up, suddenly certain of what to do and how to do it.

"Then I shall have to look everywhere I can", she announced, this time using both her physical and her mental voice.

Then, without another word, she ran off, away from the others and towards the north, feeling how the hair was blown back from her face by the mild wind. She felt more than saw how humans, dwarves and Urgals stared as she ran past, but she hardly cared about that now. She had decided to find Eragon, and so she would.

Behind her, Arya could hear Nasuada calling something, but she was already too far away to make out the words.


	31. Eastcroft

Hello, all my readers!

Well, this chapter is kind of long, to make up to you all for the shortness of chapter 30. Also, I feel as though I'm losing the ability to make this thing any realistic at all. I'll really try to work on that, because this part of the book is really my favourite and I certainly do not want to make it wrong in this story!

But, enough with my talking now! (How many times have I said that? I'll have to look it up.) Anyway, here is:

Chapter 31: Eastcroft

Arya kept on running through the wilderness during the following day, only stopping to rest when she knew it would be dangerous for her to go on. And the closer she got to the Empire, the more alert she became, and the more carefully she hid all her thoughts from any kind of intrusion. In fact, she made an effort not to think at all. For there was so much in this that would only confuse her now, fill her with unnecessary doubts.

But to stop thinking altogether was a task that for Arya had always proved to be impossible in the end, and soon she gave up the attempt altogether. When she had left the Varden, her decision had seemed like the only one that was right. It had been the only thing she could do, and she had needed to do something.

But now, as she ran here with only her racing mind for company, she had to fight harder and harder to keep the doubts away.

IN an attempt to turn her thoughts in another direction, Arya struggled to focus on the wilderness that she was running through. Here, the nature was almost untouched, for it was rare for people to be following these paths. The only sounds that could be heard were the russling of grass and leaves, the occasional singing of a bird, and her own feet drumming against the ground.

Arya enjoyed the solitude, as she had known she would. This was, in fact, one of her very first opportunities to be on her own for more than five minutes, and she intended to use it well. There was so much she needed to think about, so much that needed to be dealt with.

However, Arya's thoughts were interrupted there as she tripped over the hem of her dress. She cursed mentally, wondering yet again why humans must always make things more complicated than they already were.

That same morning, Arya had encountered a group of farmers, men who evidently were ready to bet on who "this lonely woman" might be. And, unfortunately, one of them had come a little too near the truth. So after that little meeting, Arya had stolen a dress, and had also changed her appearance to look more like a human than an elf. It was what she would have to do to keep herself safe, but it still annoyed her, as it had always done.

However, Arya met few people during the following days, and when she occasionally saw anyone, she would usually hide. Twice, she caught sight of patrols from the Empire riding past, but she saw no sign of Murtagh and Thorn. That came as a relief to her, for she had been worrying about what she would do if the red dragon appeared in the sky. Normally, she would not have doubted that she could offer at least some resistance, but since Eragon had mentioned the extraordinary powers that Murtagh seemed to possess, she was not as sure about that any more.

But, since neither the red dragon, nor his Rider appeared, Arya could put her concentration instead on finding Eragon. If he had been with Saphira, she knew it would have been an easy task for her to sense him. The nature would know about such powerful creatures as dragons, and about their Riders too.

But even now, when Eragon had been alone, there were signs of his presence in the Empire, signs that Arya soon started to sense more and more clearly. By following these, she managed to gain a vague sense of which way Eragon might have taken.

On the forth day after she had left the Varden, Arya finally arrived at a small village named Eastcroft. By this time, she was sure that Eragon was here, and that she would have to enter the village to find him.

So, in the gathering twilight, Arya made her way towards the palisade surrounding the village. As she passed through the gates, she was immediately stopped by a watchman, just as she had expected to be.

"What brings you to Eastcroft?" he asked, sounding very much like the soldier who had inquired the same of her when she came to Aberon.

"I need somewhere to spend the night", Arya responded calmly.

"I see", the man muttered. "Have you been here before?"

"No", said Arya. "But I am sure I'll find my way."

The man nodded and turned away. But just as Arya was about to leave, she caught sight of the noticeboard beside the gates. On it were two posters, one showing Eragon and the other Roran. Arya read: "Traitors to the crown". She supposed it should not have come as a shock to her, but she still could not help the feeling. She looked at the posters again, realizing that Eragon looked like he had done before the dragons changed his appearance. So no one in the Empire knew about the powers that he had been given during the Agaetí Blödhren. The thought had not occurred to her before. Not since the presence of another Rider and dragon in Galbatorix's control had been revealed.

Arya shook her head. It would not do to stand here, thinking about that now. So she wandered off through the village, finally managing to find her way to the inn, where she guessed it was most likely that Eragon would spend the night.

The noise that reached her as soon as she opened the door was overwhelming after the silence she had got used to, and for a short moment, she hesitated. Then, she walked into the room, which was crowded with people. People who were shouting, talking much more loudly than what was really needed, and drinking beer.

It seemed to Arya as though almost the entire village, and several who did not live here, had come to this very room.

Squeezing her way over to the bar, Arya said to the woman standing there:

"I would like to rent a room for the night."

"Yes, yes", the woman said distractedly, passing Arya a key and taking the money handed to her. "The last door on your right when you get up the stairs."

"Thank you", Arya told her.

Then, she looked around the room once again. Here, in this mass of people, it was impossible for her to spot Eragon. Carefully, very carefully, she extended her consciousness, but found nothing familiar. She withdrew her mind then, not daring to let herself be visible like that, in case there was anyone here who was able to recognize a mental touch. No, she would have to wait and see if Eragon appeared as the evening progressed.

Managing to find a table in the back of the room, Arya seated herself there, her gaze fixed upon the door, and her other senses struggling to take in all that was going on in the room. Presently, a man who looked like he could be a farmer came to sit opposite her. He had a glass in his hand and looked to Arya, who was used to this kind of company as well, as if he had already had a little too much to drink this eavening.

"Are you really travelling all on your own?" he asked, looking over at her with what might have been curiosity. "It's really dangerous these days, you know. Especially with that new Rider and his cousin around. I just saw the reward for them. Although I do think we should get more if we really did manage to find them."

"Yes ... perhaps", Arya murmured with a neutral expression.

She supposed that this was a generally common subject to talk about, even with strangers. She herself, however, did not feel the least like discussing it now.

Two other men had come to join them by this time, soon accompanied by a third, who had to stand, as there were no chairs left at the table. They surrounded Arya, obscuring her view of the door. She knew that she could easily have stood up and left now, but she had been in situations like these often enough to learn that it was better not to attract attention. And besides, she had no real reason to leave now.

So she joined the conversation, responding to the men's apparently stupid questions, but adding none of her own. She was still intent on finding Eragon before the evening ended.

And suddenly, as the man to her left moved aside a little, she saw him. He was leaning on the counter, his gaze wandering around the room, until it finally stopped on her.

"Well, well", the man to her left said. "We've talked much, but I'm still curious about you, my lady ..."

As he spoke, he reached towards her, as if meaning to pull down the hood she had hidden her face in during that evening. Just like the people she had met on her journey, he wanted to know who she was. And Eragon needed to know who she was.

So, reaching up, Arya grasped the man's wrist to stop his movement, before letting the hood fall off her face. She saw at once that Eragon's eyes darted up to hers, and she noticed the astonishment in his face. He had recognized her. Then, she felt the familiar touch of his consciousness, and she shouted:

- Eragon!

- Arya?

His voice revealed the same astonishment. For a moment, they stared at each other, and a warm feeling that must have been relief flashed through Arya. Then, their eye contact broke, and the feeling was gone.

Sitting just like she had done before and fighting to look as though nothing had happened, Arya watched as Eragon pushed his way towards her. To the men surrounding her, he said that he was her brother, and that the two of them were going to Dras-Leona together. It was, Arya guessed, a story as good as any, but it still made her want to smile, for some reason.

It took Eragon several minutes to persuade the men to leave him and Arya alone, during which time Arya could easily tell that he too wwas used to this kind of situation. Perhaps even more than she was.

When they were finally alone, Eragon came to sit beside her, murmuring:

"What are you doing here?"

"Searching for you", Arya replied in the same tone.

"Are you alone?"

"No longer", she said. "Did you rent a bed for the night?"

Eragon shook his head, and Arya went on:

"Good. I already have a room. We can talk there."

Together, they stood up and left the noisy room behind, climbing the stairs to the second floor of the building. The floor creeked under them, a sound which, in the silent corridor they were following, sounded unnaturally loud.

Finding the right door, Arya unlocked it and they stepped into the room. It was dark, but Eragon lit a lamp that stood on a small table by muttering:

"Brisingr!"

Then, for several long minutes, silence stretched itself between them. Arya's eyes seemed unable to leave Eragon, and her thoughts were racing again. Nothing in his appearance had changed, of course, and yet, there was something unfamiliar about him. Or perhaps it was simply the fact that his actions lately had been so incomprehensible to her that made him seem unfamiliar.

Finally deciding to go straight to the point, as there was no reason not to do so, Arya said:

"Saphira said you stayed behind to kill the last Ra'zac and to explore the rest of Helgrind. Is that the truth?"

"It's part of the truth", Eragon responded, speaking in a tone that gave Arya the clear feeling he was unwilling to tell her the whole truth.

But she needed the whole truth, so she asked:

"And what is the whole truth?"

Eragon paused for just a few seconds, then said:

"Promise me that you won't share what I'm about to tell you with anyone unless I give you permission."

Changing to the Ancient Language, Arya replied:

"I promise."

"All right", Eragon said.

And he began to speak. He told Arya about a man called Sloan, the butcher from Carvahall and the father of Katrina. He explained how Sloan had betrayed the villagers to the Ra'zac and how he, Eragon, had found the butcher in Helgrind and taken him away. Then, he told of how he had discovered the mans' True Name and, with help from that, forced him to go to Ellesméra. There, he would live the rest of his life as a punishment for what he had done.

As a conclusion to this, Eragon said:

"But whatever happens, Roran and Katrina can never learn that Sloan is still alive. If they do, there will be no end of trouble."

Eragon finished speaking there, and Arya stared. She had known that Eragon was good at getting himself into trouble, and she had to admit that she had expected some sort of story. But she was definitely not prepared for this. The words 'no end of trouble' was echoing in her mind, giving her a strange urge to smile. It seemed so ironic that Eragon should be the one speaking them now.

Slowly, Arya went over and sat on the bed, her eyes now resting upon the lamp. She could feel that Eragon was waiting for her reaction.

"You should have killed him", she said, hardly conscious that she had opened her mouth to speak before the sentence was complete.

"Maybe", Eragon responded. "But I couldn't."

Again, Arya spoke without thinking:

"Just because you find your task distasteful is no reason to shirk it. You were a coward."

Eragon's expression changed then, and he said in a somewhat louder voice:

"Was I? Anyone with a knife could have killed Sloan. What I did was far harder."

"Physically, but not morally."

"I didn't kill him", Eragon said slowly, "because ... I thought it was wrong."

He stared at her for a few seconds, seemingly struggling to find another way of explaining himself. And she waited.

Finally, he said:

"I wasn't afraid. Not that. Not after going into battle. It was something else. I will kill in war, but I won't take it upon myself to decide who lives and who dies. I don't have the experience, or the wisdom. Every man has a line he won't cross, Arya, and I found mine when I looked upon Sloan. Even if I had Galbatorix as my captive, I would not kill him. I would take him to Nasuada and king Orrin, and if they condemned him to death, I would happily lop off his head, but not before. Call it weakness if you will, but that is how I am made, and I won't apologize for it."

"You will be a tool then", Arya said, "wielded by others?"

"I will serve the people as best I can", came Eragon's response. "I've never aspired to lead. Alagaësia does not need another tyrant king."

Arya was silent then. Eragon had a look of fierce determination on his face, and it was clear that he would not change his mind. She sighed, suddenly feeling immensely tired.

"Why does everything have to be so complicated with you, Eragon?" she exclaimed. "No matter where you go, you seem to get yourself mired in difficult situations. It's as if you make an effort to walk through every bramble in the land."

"Your mother said much the same", Eragon said.

"I'm not surprised", Arya told him. "Very well, let it be. Neither of us is about to change our opinions, and we have more pressing concerns than arguing about justice and morality. In the future, though, you would do well to remember who you are and what you mean to the races of Alagaësia."

"I never forgot", he said.

Arya looked at him for a long time then, and she knew that he meant what he said. However, she chose not to give him any response.

They sat talking for some time. Arya told Eragon abaout how she had found him, and they decided that they would leave Eastcroft early the following morning. Then, Arya laid down in the bed and Eragon positioned himself by the door, and they prepared themselves for a night of uneasy rest.


	32. Travelling and fighting

Well ... I don't really know what to write here, so I'll just continue with the chapter, I suppose. Oh, and I'll probably change the title as soon as I can come up with a better one.

Chapter 32: Travelling and fighting

Just as they had decided the day before, Eragon and Arya got up even before the first of the sunlight touched the eastern sky above the village. Opening the window, they then jumped straight out, falling down to land silently on the ground below.

As they started running through the now quiet streets of Eastcroft, Eragon said:

"People will wonder where we went. Maybe we should have waited and left like normal travelers."

"It's riskier to stay", Arya answered. "I paid for my room. That's all the innkeeper really cares about, not whether we snuck out early."

Then, remembering the poster she had seen of Eragon the day before, she added:

"The most important thing is to keep moving. If we linger, the king will surely find us."

Reaching the palisade, Arya and Eragon started walking along it, until arya found a post that looked easy enough to climb along. But she knew that she would need Eragon's help in this, as she would have difficulties climbing with a dress. It was humiliating, but it was the truth.

So, after having tested the post with her strength to make sure it would not fall, Arya said:

"You first."

"Please", Eragon objected, "after you."

Arya could not help an impatient sigh. It was so like Eragon to start such an argument now.

Pointing to her dress, she said slowly, hoping that he would understand:

"A dress is somewhat breezier than a pair of leggings, Eragon."

At this, Eragon actually blushed. Then, he quickly grasped the post and started climbing up onto the palisade. Arya watched as he reached the top of the post, where he stopped.

"Go on!" she whispered.

"Not until you join me", Eragon whispered back.

"Don't be so ...", Arya started furiously, but Eragon cut across her:

"Watchman!"

Arya turned in the direction he was pointing, and caught sight of a lantern coming swiftly towards them, carried by a man with a sword in one hand. There was no time to wait, or argue. The man's eyes were travelling swiftly around, in search for anything that might disturb the quiet of night.

Gripping the post, Arya pulled herself up, using nothing except her arms. She had done that often enough, and suddenly felt a little silly for arguing with Eragon about this whole thing in the first place.

When she neared the top of the palisade, Eragon reached down, took her by the arm and lifted her onto the palisade. There they stood, side by side, as the watchman walked by below them, his lantern swinging this way and that. After a while, as he walked away, the two of them jumped down from the palisade on the other side, and ran off into the surrounding landscape.

For at least an hour, they kept on running, until it was evident that no one had seen them escape. During this time, the only disturbance came from several barking dogs, standing guard outside the farms they passed, but Eragon managed to soothe them easily enough.

Finally, as the sun was steadily rising higher and higher into the sky, they stopped. They needed to talk to Nasuada, to tell her that Eragon was alive and unharmed, and that he and Arya would be rejoining the Varden as soon as they could.

Kneeling on the ground, Arya dug a small hole in the soil with her hands, before murmuring:

"Adurna rísa!"

On her command, water flowed out of the ground and started dripping into the hole, causing a steady dripping sound as it did. When it was full, she pronounced a spell that would allow her and Eragon to both see and communicate with Nasuada.

The Varden's leader looked immensely tired as her face appeared on the surface of the water. But when Eragon greeted her, an expression of clear relief passed over her face, and she exclaimed:

"Eragon! Oh, you are safe! We were so worried."

"I am sorry I upset you", eragon apologized. "But I had my reasons."

Arya did not know what kind of answer she had expected from Nasuada upon hearing this. She knew that the leader of the Varden would undoubtedly have her own opinions, but all she said now was:

"You must explain them to me when you arrive."

"As you wish", Eragon replied, his face showing nothing of what he thought of that.

Then, his eyes, like Saphira's had done, travelled to the bandages covering Nasuada's arms, and he asked:

"How were you hurt? Why haven't any of Du Vrangr Gata healed you?"

"I ordered them to leave me alone", Nasuada explained. "And that, I will explain when you arrive."

Looking puzzled, Eragon nodded, and Nasuada turned her attention to Arya.

"I'm impressed", she said. "You found him. I wasn't sure you could."

"Fortune smiled upon me", responded Arya, who did not feel like throwing herself into a long explanation of her search just yet.

"Perhaps. But I tend to believe your skill was as important as fortune's generosity. How long until you rejoin us?"

"Two, three days, unless we encounter unforeseen difficulties", Arya replied.

"Good", Nasuada said. "I will expect you then. From now on, I want you to contact me at least once before noon and once before nightfall. If I fail to hear from you, I'll assume you've been captured, and I'll send Saphira with a rescue force."

"We may not always have the privacy we need to work magic", Arya told her.

"Find a way to get it. I need to know where you two are, and whether you're safe."

The expression of determination on Nasuada's face and in her voice was one Arya had encountered before, and she knew that it would not be easy for her to win this discussion. And of course, she did understand Nasuada's worry, and she did not want to trouble her now, when there was already so much else on her mind. At the same time, she knew that if she and Eragon were seen doing magic, they would be very lucky if they managed to escape the Empire's forces.

"If I can, I will do as you ask, but not if it puts Eragon in danger", Arya decided finally.

"Agreed", Nasuada said.

A moment of pause in the conversation followed, after which Eragon asked:

"Nasuada, is Saphira near at hand? I would like to talk to her. We haven't spoken since Helgrind."

"She left an hour ago to scout our perimeter", Nasuada answered. "Can you maintain this spell while I find out if she has returned?"

"Go", said Arya, and Nasuada walked out of the tent.

Only moments later, the large dragon's head came into view. From behind her, Arya could hear the distinct crashing sound of tables and chairs being turned over.

When Saphira had at last settled her head on the ground, she and Eragon simply stared at each other for a whole inute. Arya could see the relief in Eragon's face. Then, he whispered:

"I missed you."

Arya felt she should not listen. Eragon and Saphira ought to have this moment to themselves. She turned to look out over the quiet plain surrounding them while Eragon and his dragon spoke, Nasuada relaying what Saphira said to Eragon.

Once dragon and Rider had finished their conversation, Arya let the image fade from the water in front of them and stood up. She saw an odd expression on Eragon's face, and heard the somewhat strained tone in his voice as he said:

"Let us be off."

And so, they ran.

For a whole day, Eragon and Arya kept on running, without encountering much difficulty. They saw a few of Galbatorix's patrols, but that always happened while they were surrounded by other travelers, so none of the soldiers got any suspicious.

However, when the following day was coming to its end and they were quite alone on the plain, they discovered another of the patrols riding towards them. Arya frowned as she noticed them. She could see already that a meeting with these soldiers would be inevitable. There was nowhere here to hide.

Since both Arya and Eragon could see further than humans could, Arya was sure that the men on the horses had not seen them yet. Quickly turning to each other, they started making up a story to explain their presence in the Empire. Their tale seemed rushed and unsufficient to Arya, but it was all they could come up with during such a short time.

Slowing down to a walk, they bent their heads and tried their best to look like poor refugees who had lost their home in the battle. While they walked, Arya collected herself and organized her thoughts, preparing herself for what was to come. Of course, there was a chance that they could still avoid battle, but for some reason, the possibility seemed very small to her.

When the soldiers finally neared them, Eragon and Arya walked off the road, waiting for the group to pass by. Arya closed her eyes, listening to the rumbling sound of hooves and the shouting of the men.

Then, someone in the patrol shouted, and the entire group came to a halt, forming a circle around Arya and Eragon.

"Let me see your faces!" the leader of the group shouted, and Arya raised her eyes, seeing Eragon do the same.

For a long time, they tried to talk themselves out of the situation, but it soon became apparent that the men would not listen to or believe anything they said. All they cared about, Arya realized, was what Galbatorix had promised them.

While the conversation went on, Arya threw a glance at Eragon, and noticed how tense his body looked. She could not remember him ever looking like that before a battle, and he had participated in fights much bigger than this one would be. She wondered if it was the large distance now separating him from Saphira that had caused his reaction. But then, she forced her mind away from the subject and returned her gaze to the leader of the patrol of soldiers. She would worry about Eragon later.

When it was clear that they could not avoid fighting, Arya turned once again to Eragon, who had already picked up a stone from the ground. He blinked. She blinked. He threw the stone straight at the leader of the group.

Everything happened so quickly then, that Arya doubted the soldiers got much time to reconsider their opponents. Leaping onto one of the horses, she kicked the man off it, and then proceeded to do the same to several of the others in the patrol. She saw Eragon throwing himself to the ground to avoid getting hit by the speers thrown in his direction.

It was not long before all the horses had run away in different direction. Eragon killed four more soldiers, while Arya fought two others on the ground.

And now, there was only one man left. She saw him running away, saw Eragon chasing him. And she heard what the soldier was screaming.

"Please! Please, don't kill me! I promise I will tell no one about this! I promise! No, please!"

Arya was quite still, watching in a paralysed sort of way. Then, after a while, the soldier fell to the ground, as Eragon's fingers snapped his neck. All was still and silent again, except for her own breathing and rapidly beating heart.

When Eragon returned, Arya noticed that he was shaking. Looking him straight in the eyes, she said the first thing that came into her head, even though it was certainly not the wisest she could have said.

"How is it that you could kill that man, but you could not bring yourself to lay a finger on Sloan?"

Eragon shrugged, his face and his voice empty of emotions as he answered:

"He was a threat. Sloan wasn't. Isn't it obvious?"

Arya was silent, staring at him. He looked pale and shaken by the battle, perhaps even worse than after the fight on the Burning Plains.

But no, she corrected herself. Not worse, but in another way. Then, they had been killing so many soldiers, that they could not bring themselves to remember all of them. And none of them had begged for mercy.

And how was it that it was so much easier to kill a man who fought fiercely, who struggled and did everything in his power to stay alive? What difference was there? Before, she had been certain that no difference existed. But Eragon's words, which he had undoubtedly spoken simply to defend his own actions, had forced her to think.

Returning to the conversation again, Arya said slowly:

"It ought to be, but it isn't. I am ashamed to be instructed in morality by one with so much less experience. Perhaps I have been to certain, too confident of my own choices."

To this, Eragon did not reply. His gaze was distant. Finally, he said:

"I feel like a murderer."

"I understand how difficult this is", Arya said, hoping that her words would give him at least a small bit of comfort. "Remember, Eragon, that you have experienced only a small part of what it means to be a Dragon Rider. Eventually, this war will end, and you will see that your duties encompass more than violence. The Riders were not just warriors. They were teachers, healers and scholars."

"Why are we fighting these men, Arya?" Eragon demanded suddenly, a tone of despair entering his voice.

To this question, Arya could do nothing but give him the reply that was only too obvious.

"Because they stand between us and Galbatorix."

"Then we should find a way to strike at Galbatorix directly."

"None exists. We cannot march to Urû'baen until we defeat his forces, and we cannot enter his castle until we disarm almost a century's worth of traps, magical and otherwise."

"There has to be a way", Eragon muttered.

Without replying to this, Arya looked around at all the dead men. Anyone who saw them would understand that they had not been killed by ordinary soldiers. She knew what she had to do to hide that fact, even though she hated it. She hated it more than she would ever allow anyone to see.

Well, she thought, kneeling to pick up a speer. It would not do to think like that now. She would simply have to get the work done, as always.

Walking over to a dead soldier, Arya placed the speer under the man's chin and pressed.

Suddenly, a body came hurtling into her, knocking her aside. Startled, Arya turned to find Eragon standing there, anger visible in his face.

"What are you doing?" he shouted.

At this, Arya could not contain her frustration any longer. This was bad enough already. Why must Eragon make their task so much more difficult by questioning it?

"I will forgive that only because you are distraught and not of your right mind", she said. "Think, Eragon! Why is this necessary?"

Eragon's tone as he responded showed that he had known the answer to that question all the time, and had simply not thought about it until she forced him to do so.

"If we don't, the Empire will notice that most of the men were killed by hand."

"Exactly", said Arya. "The only ones capable of such a feat are elves, Riders and Kull. And since even an imbecile could figure out a Kull was not responsible for this, they'll soon know we are in the area. And in less than a day, Thorn and Murtagh will be flying overhead, searching for us."

Bending down again, she pulled the speer out of the man's head, using all her willpower to ignore the horrible sound it made as it left the body, and handed it to Eragon, saying:

"I find this as repulsive as you do, so you might as well make yourself useful and help."

Reluctantly, Eragon took the speer. Arya picked up a sword, and they started making it look as though a group of human soldiers had killed the patrol from the Empire.

It did not take them long. When they were finished, Eragon packed up his armour, which he had been forced to reveal to the soldiers, and came to stand next to Arya.

"We'd best avoid the roads from now on", Arya said. "We cannot risk another encounter with Galbatorix's men."

She looked at Eragon, noticing for the first time that his right hand was covered in blood. It looked crushed and useless, and painful to. Pointing to it, she said:

"You should tend to that before we set forth."

However, she did not allow Eragon to even begin performing the healing himself. Reaching out, she grabbed Eragon's fingers and said:

"Waíse heill!"

When the spell was done, Eragon moved his fingers this way and that, to make sure that they worked as normal. Then, he said, with a slight note of surprise:

"Thank you."

Arya looked away, out across the plain, uncertain whether her usual blank expression would be capable of concealing what she thought at the moment. It was as though an instinct had taken over her mind, the instinct that so often caused her to do things that she would later either regret or simply wonder about for a very long time. Had it been pity that drove her? Pity for Eragon, because of the chaos he must be experiencing within himself at the moment?

"I am glad that you were by my side today, Eragon", Arya said after a pause.

"And you by mine", Eragon responded.

Arya allowed a small smile to cross her face as she listened to his words and, once again, heard that honesty in his voice.

The two of them remained in the same position for another few minutes, silent and unmoving. Then, they set off to look for somewhere safe to spend the night.


	33. The power of memories

Okay, so let me explain some things about this chapter before you read on!

Firstly, I'm doing this as a kind of ... well, test, I suppose. As you may have noticed, the last three or four chapters I posted were ... well, let's say, really, really bad, shall we? I think that's what's made me lose the inspiration to post more on this story. However, this is my favourite part of Brisingr, so I don't want to give up just yet. So if I did manage to write a better chapter this time, please, please tell me!

Secondly, I was going to make the night beside the campfire as one chapter, but when I was writing it, it got so extremely long, so it became two chapters instead. But don't worry about the cliffhanger - I'll post the next chapter soon, I promise!

Chapter 33: The power of memories

Several hours later, when night had properly descended over the vast expanse of the plain, Arya and Eragon sat staring into their small campfire. After they had eaten dinner, neither of them had made any attempt to go to sleep. Arya knew that the tension caused by the battle they had just been through had not left Eragon completely. She could see that by looking at the way he sat, so alert and prepared, and by the wariness in his expression.

As she watched the first stars lighting up the sky above her, it struck Arya that there was something odd about it. There was something odd about Eragon's behaviour. He had killed so many more men during the previous battles he had taken part in. They both had. So why should this encounter with no more than fifteen soldiers unsettle them both so much?

For there was no reason for Arya to deny it either. She had been unsettled by the battle, and she had no idea why. Was it because of the discussion she had had with Eragon? Was it because of the fact that, regardless of how she had acted towards him before, she had known that there was a point in all he had said? After all, this was the second moral discussion they had had in which she had been defeated by Eragon.

Arya drew in a deep breath, letting the air flow slowly out of her lungs, as she tried to clear her mind. Whatever the cause of her sudden uncertainty may have been, there was no point in wondering more about it now. Now, when they both ought to rest, so that they would be able to get up early the following day to continue their journey.

Leaning back on her elbows, Arya forced herself to focus on her surroundings instead of the tangled maze of thoughts that were her mind. Everything around them was silent by now. There was no wind rustling the grass, no birds singing, no feet running across the ground. Within just a few minutes, the animals who spent the night hunting would come out and start looking for food. But for now, all was still.

Then, there came the sound of a wolf howling. The cry echoed across the plain, followed by several others that were alike, yet different. The wolves sang together, creating a melody that was all but soothing.

Next to Arya, Eragon stirred uneasily. As she turned to look at him, she could make out the swet on his forehead. And now, he seemed even tenser than before. It was as though he was fighting against something only he could see. Was it fear? Fear of what? The wolves? She could not tell.

"What's wrong?" Arya asked him. "Is it the wolves? They shall not bother us, you know. They are teaching their pups how to hutn, and they won't allow their younglings near creatures who smell as strangely as we do."

"It's not the wolves out there", Eragon replied, tapping his forehead with a finger. "It's the wolves in here."

Arya nodded. She understood what he meant without having to hear more.

"It is always thus", she said. "The monsters of the mind are far worse than those that actually exist. Fear, doubt and hate have hamstrung more people than beasts ever have."

"And love", Eragon pointed out.

"And love", she agreed, wondering if that had merely been something that escaped him before he had time to think. "Also greed and jealousy, and every other obsessive urge the sentient races are susceptible to."

Eragon was silent for a while, contemplating this. Then, he changed subject, asking:

"Does it bother you when you kill?"

Arya stared, thinking for a moment that perhaps she had misunderstood his words. But no, they had been quite clear. Anger flashed within her as she responded:

"Neither I, nor the rest of my people eat the flesh of animals because we cannot bear to hurt another creature to satisfy our hunger, and you have the effrontery to ask if killing disturbs us? Do you really understand so little of us, that you believe we are cold-hearted murderers?"

"No, of course not!" exclaimed Eragon, appearing startled by her sudden outburst. "That's not what I meant."

"Then, say what you mean", said Arya, "and do not give insults unless it is your intention."

After having paused for a moment, Eragon said slowly:

"I asked this of Roran before we attacked Helgrind, or a question very like it. What I want to know is ... how do you feel when you kill? How are you supposed to feel? Do you see the warriors you have vanquished staring back at you, as real as you are before me?"

That quelled Arya's anger as quickly as it had risen. Eragon had described the very feeling she had experienced the first few times she killed. The feeling she always experienced when taking a life, although she had learnt by now how to suppress and ignore it, like she did with all emotions that she found unnecessary at the moment.

Arya put her arms around her legs, watching as one of the moths fluttering around them was burnt to ash by the fire.

"Gánga!" she said absently, sending the moths away with a wave of her finger.

Then, Arya began to talk. She told Eragon of the first time she had ever taken a life, nine months after she had joined the Varden. It had been an Urgal. An Urgal who, along with several others, had attacked her and her companions while they were on their way to Surda.

As she was talking, pictures kept flashing through her. Images, sounds, impressions of the battle, which she had not thought about for a very long time, but which had always lingered somewhere in the back of her mind. It had taken her weeks before she learnt how to control that feeling of shame over what she had done.

When she had finished, Eragon asked quietly:

"How did you come to terms with what you had done?"

"I examined my reasons for killing to determine if they were just", replied Arya. "Satisfied they were, I asked myself if our cause was important enough to continue supporting it, even though it would probably require me to kill again. Then, I decided that whenever I began to think of the dead, I would picture myself in the gardens of Tialdarí Hall."

"Did it work?"

The eagerness in Eragon's voice was not lost on her.

"It did", she said. "The only antidote for the corrosive poison of violence is finding peace within yourself. It is a difficult cure to obtain, but well worth the effort."

She hesitated for a while, and then continued, as another thought occurred to her:

"Breathing helps too."

"Breathing?"

Eragon appeared surprised.

"Slow, regular breathing", explained Arya, "as if you were meditating. It is one of the most effective methods for calming yourself."

Eragon was silent. She could see how his chest began to rise and fall slowly, keeping a regular pace all the while. Within a minute, his muscles relaxed, and he no longer appeared as troubled as before.

From somewhere beyond their camp, the wolves uttered another loud howl, but this time, Eragon seemed almost indifferent.

"Thank you", said Eragon, again speaking with that honesty that she had come to associate with him.

Arya nodded, glad that her advice had helped him.

Silence ruled between them for a while, before Eragon said:

"Urgals."

He paused, then asked:

"What do you think about Nasuada allowing them to join the Varden?"

Arya picked up a twig that lay on the ground, staring at it while she contemplated his question.

"It was a courageous decision", she said, "and I admire her for it. She always acts in the best interests of the Varden."

"She upset many of the Varden when she accepted Nar Garzhvog's offer of support", Eragon pointed out.

"And she won back their loyalty with the Trial of the Long Knives. Nasuada is very clever when it comes to maintaining her position. I have no love for Urgals, but neither do I hate them. Unlike the Ra'zac, they are not inherently evil, merely overfond of war. It is an important distinction, even if it can provide no consolation to the families of their victims. We elves have treated with Urgals before, and we shall again when the need arises. It is a futile prospect, however."

Eragon did not respond to this, but Arya saw that he understood. Understood that by simply living near an Urgal village, people would put themselves at the risk of getting into a fight with one of them.

After a few more minutes of silence, Eragon questioned:

"How is it that Durza managed to ambush you, Glenwing and Fäolin with Urgals? Didn't you have wards to protect yourselves against physical attacks?"

"The arrows were enchanted", said Arya.

"Were the Urgals spellcasters then?"

Letting out a sigh, Arya closed her eyes for a brief moment, fighting back the flow of memories that had streamed into her at the very mention of Durza's name. Then, she looked back at Eragon and responded:

"No. It was some dark magic of Durza's invention. He gloated about it when I was in Gil'ead."

"I don't know how you managed to resist him for so long", Eragon said. "I saw what he did to you."

"It ..."

Arya's voice faltered and she tried again:

"It was not easy. I viewed the torments he inflicted on me as a test of my commitment, as a chance to demonstrate that I had not made a mistake and I was indeed worthy of the Yawê symbol. As such, I welcomed the ordeal."

Apearing unsatisfied, Eragon objected:

"But still, even elves are not immune to pain. It's amazing you could keep the location of Ellesméra hidden from him all those months."

Arya could not help but feel proud s she answered, and she knew the feeling must have had some effect on her voice.

"Not just the location of Ellesméra", she said. "But also where I had sent Saphira's egg, my vocabulary in the Ancient Language, and everything else that might be of use to Galbatorix."

"Do you think about it much?" Eragon asked. "What you went through in Gil'ead."

Arya did not respond. She did not know how to. It was not unlike Eragon to ask her such a question, yet she could never prepare herself to answer when he actually did.

"You never talk about it", Eragon continued. "You recount the facts of your imprisonment readily enough, but you never mention what it was like for you, nor how you feel about it now."

"Pain is pain", said Arya simply. "It needs no description."

"True. But ignoring it can cause more harm than the original injury. No one can live through something like that and escape unscathed. Not on the inside, at least."

"Why do you assume I have not already confided in someone?" Arya demanded, even though she could not see how the answer to that question would help her out of this situation.

"Who?"

"Does it matter? Ajihad, my mother, a friend in Ellesméra."

Eragon's expression was thoughtful, his eyes lingering on her as though waiting for her reaction to his next words. She waited, as she had often done when speaking to him like this, with no idea of what he would say next.

"Perhaps I am wrong", Eragon said slowly. "But you do not seem that close to anyone. Where you walk, you walk alone, even among your own people."

It was true, thought Arya. All he said was true. From his remarks about pain to his observations of her. And what could she respond to that?

In any other situation, Arya would have turned away now. She would have closed herself to Eragon, to anyone who wanted that kind of information from her. Because of course, it was inappropriate. It was not the kind of information that would help any of them in their task, and it was not the kind of information that she wanted people to kknow.

Yet now, as she sat in their small camp next to the fire, with the stars shining above, she asked herself: why not tell him the truth? Did he not deserve it from her after all he had done? Had he not got the right to know exactly what it was that Durza had taken away from her?

Arya's voice was no more than a whisper when she spoke, as though that would make the task of explaining less difficult.

"It was not always so. Once, I had someone to talk to. Someone who understood what I was and where I came from. Once. He was older than I, but we were kindred spirits, both curious about the world outside our forest, eager to explore and eager to strike against Galbatorix. Neither of us could bear to stay in Du Weldenvarden, studying, working magic, pursuing our own personal projects, when we knew the dragon killer, the bane of the Riders was searching for a way to conquer our race. He came to that conclusion later than I, decades after I assumed my position as ambassador. But the moment he did, he volunteered to accompany me wherever Islanzadí's orders might take me."

Arya felt that her eyes were burning, and blinked hard, in a vain attempt to hold back the tears she knew would come in just a few seconds.

"I wasn't going to let him", she said. "But the queen liked the idea. And he was so very convincing."

She blinked once again, but the tears had already come. There was no way of hiding them, even though that was what all her instincts were screaming at her to do. To cry, to do it this openly, was something she never allowed herself to do. For if she did, it would be to accept the presence of the pain and the sorrow she was always trying to hide.

"Was it Fäolin?" Eragon asked, his voice almost as quiet as hers.

"Yes."

"Did you love him?"

Arya stared up at the sky above their heads. Had she loved Fäolin? What did the word 'love' mean to her? What kind of love was Eragon asking about? And why? Why was he asking this of her? Why, when he knew what sort of answer he was most likely to get?

"Do you ask out of friendly concern or your own self-interest?"

Arya regretted the words the moment she spoke them. It had been mean of her, and there was no way for her to explain what had made her say it.

She uttered a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob as she said:

"Never mind! The night air has addled me. It has undone my sense of courtesy and left me free to say the most spiteful things that occur to me."

"No matter", Eragon told her, but she would not accept that.

"It does matter", she insisted, "because I regret it, and I shall not tolerate it. Did I love Fäolin? How would you define love? For over twenty years we travelled together, the only immortals to walk among the short-lived races. We were companions, and friends."

The sorrow was so close. Closer than it had been since those first days in Farthen Dûr after she awoke. It ought to make her ashamed, to know that Eragon was watching her now, in one of her rare moments of ... weakness? No, not weakness. This was something else.

"Over twenty years", she repeated, rocking back and forth where she sat and keeping her eyes locked on the sky, the memories now almost overwhelming her. "And then, in a single instant, Durza tore that away from me. Fäolin and Glenwing were the first elves to die in combat for nearly a century. When I saw Fäolin fall, I understood then that the true agony of war isn't being wounded yourself. It's having to watch those you care about being hurt. It was a lesson I thought I had already learnt during my time with the Varden, when one after another of the men and women I had come to respect died from swords, arrows, poison, accidents and old age. The loss had never been so personal, however. And when it happened, I thought: now I must surely die as well. For whatever dangers we had encountered before, Fäolin and I had always survived them together. and if he could not escape, then why should I?"

Warm tears were now flowing freely from the corners of her eyes, down her face, partly obscuring her vision. During all the times she had been retelling this story, she had never broken down like this. She had never displayed her sorrow so openly. Never.

So why now? Why here, with a boy whom she had not even known for a month, instead of with her own mother?

Arya was not able to answer that question, but what did It matter? Right now, the answer to that question felt as unimportant to her as the religion of the dwarven clans.

When arya began to speak again, she was no longer on the plain next to Eragon, but back in her cell in Gil'ead. Her words created images, feelings, that were so real it startled her. She saw Durzas threatening face above her, felt the pain piercing through her entire body, experienced once again the sensation of not being able to tell what was true and what was false.

A picture of a white rose appeared before her vision. The flower that had been left for her by one of the soldiers, although she had never been able to work out which of them it had been. She saw how it grew, broke through the ceiling and reached into the sky. And then, how it vanished, and she understood that the image had only been created by her own mind.

All this, Arya told Eragon, without hesitation, without thinking, without asking herself why. By the time she finished, the tears had stopped falling from her eyes, although her cheeks were still wet. The wave of sorrow had retreated, leaving her feeling dazed and empty. Raising her hand, she wiped the liquid from her face.

"When I awoke in Farthen Dûr, there was too much that needed doing for me to dwell on the past", she said. "But events of late have been dark and bloody, and increasingly I have found myself remembering that which I should not. It makes me grim and out of sorts, without patience for the ordinary delays of life."

Arya felt dizzy. It was as though she had, during the few short minutes it had taken her to retell the story of her imprisonment, travelled through it all once again. And now that she had returned to the quiet, almost peaceful night, she felt ... confused. That was the only word she could find to describe her emotions. Confused, bewildered, numb.

She positioned herself on her knees, with her hands firmly placed on the ground on either side of her.

"You say I walk alone", she said slowly. "Elves do not incline toward the open displays of friendship that humans and dwarves favour, and I have ever been of a solitary disposition. But if you had known me before Gil'ead, if you had known me as I was, you would not have considered me so aloof. Then, I could sing and dance, and not feel threatened by a sense of impending doom."

Suddenly, Eragon reached out his right hand, placing it over her left. She felt the warmth from his hand flow into her, and realized that she had been cold without actually registering it.

This was yet another of those situations when she ought to withdraw, ought to say that it was enough, that she would not allow Eragon to be this close to her, neither physically, nor mentally. But the expression on his face stopped her. For it was not that of passion or desire, but rather sympathy. He was honestly sorry for what she had been forced to go through, and his only wish now was to comfort her. And she had no power to deny him that. Not when her own defence had already been crushed.

"The stories about the heroes of old never mention that this is the price you pay when you grapple with the monsters of the dark, and the monsters of the mind", Eragon said, his voice soft in the silence around them. "Keep thinking about the gardens of Tialdarí Hall, and I'm sure you will be fine."

For almost a minute, the two of them remained still. Then, Arya told herself that it was enough. She lifted her arm slightly, and, understanding the message, Eragon withdrew from her.

A long pause in the conversation followed. Eragon was gazing down at the ground by his feet, but Arya was not in the state to notice or care about what he was doing. She had no idea what had made her say all that to Eragon. But neither did she regret telling him. It was such a rare experience for her, to open herself so completely, and she did not know what to make of it.

Beside her, Eragon was holding out his hands, as if he meant to give her something, and she returned her gaze to him, slowly. And there, resting on his right palm, covering the Gedwêy Ignasia, was a blue lily. A lily that he was giving to her. A lily that he had, no doubt, made with magic for her.


	34. Encounter with magic

Yay! I've finally finished yet another incredibly long chapter! And no, I did not intend it to be this long. It just ... what is it I say sometimes? It wrote itself. But from now on, the chapters will return to normal length, around 2,000 words.

But before we continue the story, I would like to thank you for the number of reviews I got for the last chapter! Seven reviews! Well done, everyone, and keep up the good work!

Oh, just one last thing. After the encounter with the spirits, I think I made Arya rather OOC, but I'll leave it that way, because I think spirits could make anyone OOC. Just so you know.

Chapter 34: Encounter with magic

Arya gazed down at the flower in Eragon's hand. She knew she should be shocked, shocked like she had been when it became clear to her just what Eragon was feeling towards her. But she was not. All she felt was a sense of thankfulness towards the boy - no, the young man - who was doing his best to comfort her. The feeling, she realized, was not caused so much by the gift as by Eragon's reason for giving it to her.

Smiling a little awkwardly, Eragon said:

"It's not a white rose, but ..."

He cut himself off, shrugging. Reaching out her hand, Arya took the flower from him, a name for it leaping into her mind. Livissa.

"You should not have", Arya said. "But I am glad you did."

Her fingers moved against the underside of the lily, as though making sure that it was real. As she raised the blossom to her face, the sweet smell of spring, of forest, of life, filled her nostrils. A feeling of relaxation came over her. It was not passion. It was not any kind of warmth. It was just peace. The sort of peace she had been describing to Eragon in the beginning of their conversation. That felt like at least a day ago to her.

Had Eragon known in what ways that simple gesture would affect her? Or had he merely been repeating what Fäolin had done for her, so long ago?

There, Arya stopped her thoughts, before they had time to reach that complicated mess that she was always struggling to avoid. Now was not the moment to sort that out.

Digging a hole in the earth next to her, Arya carefully planted the lily in it.

"Thank you", she said, her eyes never leaving the blue flower. "Giving flowers is a custom that both our races share, but we elves attach greater importance to it than do humans. It signifies all that is good. Life, beauty, rebirth, friendship and more. I explain so that you understand how much this means to me. You did not know, but ..."

But before she had time to complete the sentence, Eragon interrupted her:

"I knew."

Those two words silenced Arya, as she realized her mistake. She had, once again, underestimated Eragon, treating him not as an equal, but as someone who knew less than she did. She had, just as she had done back in Ellesméra, forgotten how much Oromis had been able to teach him during his time in the city. But no, she corrected herself. Not how much Oromis had been able to teach him, but how much Eragon had been able to learn.

"Forgive me", she told Eragon. "That is twice now I have forgotten the extent of your education. I shall not make the mistake again."

Then, glancing back at the lily again, she repeated, this time in the Ancient Language:

"Thank you."

"It was my pleasure", Eragon replied immediately, also changing language. "And I am glad you enjoy the gift."

A shiver passed over his body, and Arya suddenly became aware of how tired he looked. She had not studied his face properly since he'd given her the lily. No, since she had begun telling him of that which she wanted to just forget. But now that she did, she saw that it was pale in the light from the gleaming stars.

She understood that Eragon had used too much of his strength when creating the lily, a mistake not uncommon for elves when they practiced singing plants into shape with magic.

"You used too much of your strength", Arya told him.

Then, her attention was caught by the sapphire on his ring, Aren, and she continued:

"If you have any energy left in Aren, use it to steady yourself."

Appearing surprised at the suggestion, Eragon looked at the ring, then said:

"I don't know if there is any energy in Aren. I've never stored any there myself, and I never checked if Brom had."

His voice faded, and an expression of concentration came over his face. Then, his eyes widened in apparent astonishment.

Almost a minute later, Eragon finally turned to Arya again, laughing as he said:

"It's full of energy. Brom must have stored every bit of power he could spair in it the whole time he was hiding in Carvahall. All those years! With what's in Aren, I could tear apart an entire castle with a single spell."

"He knew he would need it to keep the new Rider safe when Saphira hatched", Arya pointed out. "Also, I am sure Aren was a way for him to protect himself if he had to fight a Shade or some other similarly powerful opponent. It was not by accident that he managed to frustrate his enemies for the better part of a century. If I were you, I would save the energy he left you for your hour of greatest need, and I would add to it whenever I could. It is an incredibly valuable resource. You should not squander it."

Eragon continued to gaze down at the ring. By now, his face was unreadable to Arya, who was content to sit in silence, watching him, listening to the crackling of the fire as the flames consumed the wood they had piled up.

After several minutes had passed in silence, Eragon said:

"Arya, do male dragons grow any faster than female dragons?"

"No", said Arya. "Why do you ask?"

"Because of Thorn", Eragon explained. "He's only a few months old, and yet he's almost as big as Saphira. I don't understand it."

This was true, Arya thought. True, even though she had hardly gave it a thought, seeing as she had never been that near the red dragon.

With her thoughts still on Eragon's question, she started to write in the soil next to her with a blade of grass. Just like in Ellesméra, the writing helped to focus and organize her thoughts.

"Most likely", she said to Eragon, "Galbatorix accelerated his growth so Thorn would be large enough to hold his own with Saphira."

"Ah!" Eragon said. "Isn't that dangerous, though? Oromis told me that if he used magic to give me the strength, speed, endurance and other skills I needed, I would not understand my new abilities as well as if I had gained them in the ordinary way, by hard work. He was right too. Even now, the changes the dragons made to my body during the Agaetí Blödhren still sometimes catch me by surprise."

Arya nodded, without pausing her writing.

"It is possible to reduce the undesirable side effects by certain spells", she said. "But it is a long and arduous process. If you wish to achieve true mastery of your body, it is still best to do so through normal means. The transformation Galbatorix has forced upon Thorn must be incredibly confusing for him. Thorn now has the body of a nearly grown dragon, and yet his mind is still that of a youngling."

"Do you also know why Murtagh is so powerful?" Eragon asked. "More powerful than I am?"

"If I did, no doubt I would also understand how Galbatorix has managed to increase his own strength to such incredible hights. But alas, I do not."

Upon hearing this, Eragon was silent for a long while, his mind seeming to work furiously with something Arya did not know.

For several minutes, the conversation flowed easily between them, neither of them mentioning their previous, emotional subject. For that, Arya was glad. However, she could not stop her gaze from returning to the blue Loivissa every now and then. It felt as though her eyes were drawn to the flower, in much the same way as her thoughts were drawn to Eragon, even when she knew it would be best not to think about him. Not to wonder.

For wonder was what she always did when thinking about him. No matter what he said or did, there always seemed to be questions for her to answer. Perhaps it has something to do with his ability to get himself entangled in so much trouble everywhere, she thought to herself. He does not choose the safe paths, as most people would, but the ones he thinks are the right ones.

While they talked, Arya struggled to concentrate on each word she said, as though in an attempt to pull herself back to reality. Whatever reality meant to her now, when everything around her kept changing so much.

Arya stopped writing on the ground after a while, focusing instead on making a small ship out of the blades of grass that lay scattered around her. During her early years in Ellesméra, she had always been skilled at working with things from the nature, shaping grass and leaves into ships and other things. Once, she had even attempted to create a dragon. However, that had failed miserably. She had never showed it to anyone.

At one point in their conversation, they reached the subject of True Names. As she thought about it, Arya realized that a lot of conversations concerning magic eventually seemed to return to that particular subject, as though it was the essence of everything. And of course, in one way, it was.

"Has anyone tried to guess Galbatorix's True Name?" asked Eragon. "It seems as if that would be the fastest way to end this war. To be honest, I think it is the only hope we have of vanquishing him in battle."

A few words of what he had just said stuck in Arya's mind then, and even though she tried to stop thinking about it, she found she could not. "To be honest ..." It was something that was never said in the Ancient Language, for what reason was there to do it when all lying was prevented by the power in every word?

"Were you not being honest with me before?" she asked before she could prevent herself.

Eragon chuckled at her question.

"Of course not!" he answered. "It's just a figure of speech."

As he said that, it struck Arya how very much like Brom he sounded. It was exactly the same words she knew the older Rider would have used had she asked him such a question. Which, now that she thought it over, she believed she had, during her first few years with the Varden.

"And a poor one at that", she said to Eragon. "Unless you happen to be in the habit of lying."

Eragon looked at her for a few seconds, before he continued with what he had been sayng before she interrupted.

"I know it would be hard to find Galbatorix's True Name", he said. "But if all the elves and all the members of the Varden who knew the ancient Language searched for it, we could not help but succeed."

"Galbatorix's True Name is no great secret", Arya told him. "Three elves, one a Rider and two ordinary spellcasters, discovered it on their own, and many years apart."

"They did?" Eragon burst out, suddenly excited.

Arya continued, however, before he had time to say anything else:

"We can only speculate whether Galbatorix himself knows his True Name. I am of the opinion that he does not. For whatever it is, his True Name must be so terrible, he could not go on living if he heard it."

"Unless he is so evil or so demented, the truth about his actions has no power to disturb him", Eragon suggested.

"Perhaps", said Arya. "Either way, Galbatorix is certainly aware that he has a True Name, like all creatures and things, and that it is a potential weakness. At some point before he embarked on his campain against the Riders, he cast a spell that kills whoever uses his True Name. And since we do not know exactly how this spell kills, we cannot shield ourselves from it. You see then why we have all but abandoned that line of inquiry. Oromis is one of the few who re brave enough to continue seeking out Galbatorix's True Name, all be it in a roundabout manner."

Arya stopped speaking, her hands working to complete the last details on the ship of grass she had been forming. Pleased with what she had made, she held out her hands to Eragon, revealing what she had made. His eyes moved swiftly over it, and he said quietly:

"It's beautiful!"

Arya did not respond, but she was glad for the praise.

For a moment, she let her eyes rest on the ship, while wondering what she would do with it. Creating it had merely been a way for her to keep her hands busy with something.

Suddenly a thought leapt into her mind. She pictured the ship, floating on the winds above this plain, above Dras-Leona, and further on still, for ever flying. The image delighted her, and she leaned forwards, murmuring to the grass ship resting on her palms:

"Flauga!"

On her command, the ship lifted from her hands, taking the energy it needed from the plants below. It circled their camp once, then flew off into the night. Watching it fly away, Arya found herself wondering what people would think once they saw it.

"How far will it go?" Eragon questioned.

"For ever", she replied. "It takes the energy to stay aloft from the plants below. Wherever there are plants, it can fly."

"Imagine the stories people will tell about it in the years to come", remarked Eragon.

"Many such oddities exist in the world", said Arya. "The longer you live and the further you travel, the more of them you will see."

Changing back to their previous subject, Eragon asked:

"If it's so important to protect your True Name, should I cast a spell to keep Galbatorix from using my True Name against me?"

"You can if you wish to, but I doubt it is necessary. True Names are not so easy to find as you think. Galbatorix does not know you well enough to guess your name. And if he were inside your mind, and able to examine your every thought and memory, you would be already lost to him, True Name or no."

She hesitated for a while, studying him. She had not paid a thought to what his True Name might be. At least, none that she could remember. She knew, however, that she would not be able to guess it.

"If it is any comfort", she said, "I doubt that even I could devine your True Name."

"Couldn't you?"

Eragon seemed surprised, and perhaps, although this was only an assumption, even a little disappointed.

"No, I do not think so", she said. "Could you guess mine?"

"No."

Silence descended upon them again. And in that silence, a wind swept over them. A cold wind that howled like an injured animal, making an involuntary shudder run down Arya's spine. There was something odd about this wind. She knew it, she could feel it in the very air. It was not created in the natural way, a fact that immediately made all her senses alert.

The wind increased in strength, and it was though it isolated her and Eragon from the rest of the world. Sparks from their fire flew everywhere, spreading in the gusts of wind.

Moving forwards, Arya began to scoop dirt over the fire, soon joined by Eragon. Together, they extinguished the fire. For whatever it was that was watching them now, they had better not announce their presence. Although Arya guessed it hardly mattered, she felt safer with the fire gone.

She was about to stand up, then changed her mind, as it suddenly became clear to her what was watching them. Spirits. It was the only possible explanation, as far as she knew. For what else could create such an odd and unnatural wind? And what else could make it feel as though she and Eragon were completely cut off from the rest of the world?

"What is it?" asked Eragon, and the intensity in his voice revealed that he too had sensed that something was not as it should.

"We are being watched", Arya replied, finding no time to give a further explanation. "Whatever happens, don't use magic, or you may get us killed."

"Who ...", he began, but Arya merely hushed him, straining her ears to catch a sound from the surroundings, other than the continued howling of the wind.

Then, she saw them. A group of lights, darting towards the camp faster than anything should be able to fly. The lights were round, constantly changing in colour and size as they flew. The air around them was humming, as though it was filled with so much power it was ready to burst at any moment. As the spirits came hurtling into the camp, Arya could feel her hair standing on end, and resisted the temptation to try and flatten it.

"What do they want?" shouted Eragon, but Arya, whose mind was focused entirely on what was happening around them, chose not to answer.

By this time, one of the spirits had flown out of the group and was hovering right in front of her, as though waiting for something. And Arya knew what it wanted now. She had encountered spirits before, although only once.

Raising her left arm, Arya pushed it through the barrier of power that surrounded the orb of light, and then laid her hand on its surface.

As soon as her hand touched the centre of the spirit, the presence of its mind flowed into her thoughts, not even having to force its way through her defences. They had collapsed before she had even got time to strengthen them.

But at the next moment, Arya would never have thought of pushing the creature out of her mind. Not with the wild joy that was suddenly filling her, brushing away all her other emotions as easily as the spirit had broken her mental barriers.

However, there was not only joy inside her, but also a question. The spirit wanted to know why both she and Eragon had cast the spells they had used, and she could find no reason not to explain. She would do anything to satisfy them, just so that she would be able to experience this wonderful feeling of happiness for a little longer. Which was, of course, exactly what the spirits wanted her to feel.

Arya spoke, not only explaining about their magic, but also telling the spirit that Eragon had been the one freeing the spirits that Durza had trapped within his body. She did not know how she could tell that the information was important, but she knew that it mattered.

When the spirit had finally got the information it wanted, its presence withdrew from Arya's mind, and it glided over to where Eragon was sitting. Arya saw how he cast a questioning look at her, as though unsure what to do, and she gestured for him to do the same as she had done.

She watched, absolutely motionless, as Eragon came in contact with the spirit, and blue rays of light started flashing between his right palm and the orb.

A whole minute went by, while Arya watched the encounter between a Dragon Rider and a spirit with fascination, feeling all the energy that was swirling around her at that moment. And then, the spirit returned to its companions, and they rushed out of the camp as quickly as they had come.

The silence that fell in the camp was immense, for by now, even the wind had died down. All was quiet again.

Arya stared after the spirits, with a feeling of emptiness. She longed for the joy she had felt while in contact with that glowing orb of light. It had been a comfort to her. Why couldn't it have stayed for just a little longer?

But no. The spirit had not done it for Arya, but for itself. The joy had been its weapon and nothing else. Keeping that in mind, she carefully blocked the longing she felt, subdued it until it was manageable. Then, she turned back to Eragon, to explain about the spirits and their nature.

They discussed the subject of spirits for quite a long time, but all the while, something else kept nagging at arya's attention, until finally, she had to examine it more closely. The lily. She didn't know why she thought there was anything odd about it, but knew that something must have changed.

Moving towards it, she touched the petals, and was astounded. They felt ... cold. Cold as metal. But yet, as she reached out her mind towards it, the flower was still just as alive as it had been before.

"Oh!" Arya exclaimed. "Naina!"

Her spell caused a soft light to appear in the air, illuminating the camp and the flower. And she saw that it was made of gold. A golden lily.

"It's a perfect copy!" Eragon burst out.

"And it is still alive", Arya finished.

"No!"

A smile touched her lips as she watched him focusing his mind on the lily. Then, Eragon said:

"This is beyond anything I know of magic. By all rights, this lily ought to be dead. Instead it is thriving. I cannot even imagine what would be involved in turning a flower into living metal. Perhaps Saphira could do it, but she would never be able to teach the spell to anyone else."

"The real question is whether this flower will produce seeds that are fertile", Arya commented.

"It could spread?" Eragon asked, incredulous.

"I would not be surprised if it does", she told him.

"Unfortunately", Eragon said, "if anyone discovers this flower or the offspring it may have, they will dig them all up. Every fortune hunter in the land will come here to pick the golden lilies."

"They will not be so easy to destroy, I think", Arya observed. "But only time will tell for sure."

Eragon smiled to himself. With the expression getting steadily wider, he said:

"I've heard the expression 'to gild the lily' before. But the spirits actually did it. They gilded the lily!"

And he burst into a roaring laughter that echoed throughout their surroundings. Also smiling, Arya replied:

"Well, their intentions were noble. We cannot fault them for being ignorant of human sayings."

"No, but ..."

There, Eragon was interrupted by his own laughing.

Arya snapped her fingers, extinguishing the light she had conjured, before saying:

"We have talked away most of the night. It is time we rest. Dawn is fast approaching, and we must depart soon there after."

Then, she lay down on the ground and closed her eyes. The last sound she heard before drifting into her waking dreams was Eragon's chuckling. And in her mind, the image of the golden lily remained, giving her a quiet sense of peace and comfort throughout the rest of the night.


End file.
